Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: A Middle-English Arthurian Romance Retold in Modern Prose

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I

HARVARD COLLEGE
LIBRARY

I

FROM THE LIBRARY OF

George Lyman Kittredge

GURNEY PROFESSOR

OF ENGLISH LITERATURE

1917- 1941

\

THIS EDITION IS LIMITED TO TWO
HUNDRED AND TEN SIGNED AND
NUMBERED COPIES, OF WHICH THIS
COPY IS NUMBER

ARTHURIAN ROMANCES

Ufucpfcsentod In Malofy^s
""Morte d'Afthttf''

Sir eawaiti andtbe ereeti KnisM

A Middle-English Arthurian Ro-
mance Retold in Modem Prose^
with Introduction &f Notes^ by
Jessie L. Weston, Translator of
Wolfram von Eschenbach's ^* Par-
zivar' J^ ^ ^ ^ ^

NEW YORK

NEW AMSTERDAM BOOK CO.

190^

y

^ y-< 13. J / yi

/ HARVARD

university!

LIBRARY
I JCT 20 1962

TJI^ttUtt to ifiMt <ltllition

The poem of which the following pages
offer a prose rendering is contained in a
MS., believed to be unique, of the Cotto-
nian Collection, Nero A. X., preserved in
the British Museum. The MS. is of the
end of the fourteenth century, but it is
possible that the composition of the poem
is somewhat earlier; the subject-matter
is certainly of very old date. There has
been a considerable divergence of opinion
among scholars on the question of author-
ship, but the view now generally accept^
is that it is the work of the same hand as

vi If^ttUtt to ipirtft (ISBition

Pearl, another poem of considerable merit
contained in the same MS.

Our poem, or, to speak more correctly,
metrical romance, contains over 2500
lines, and is composed in staves of vary-
ing length, ending in five short rhyming
lines, technically known as a bob and a
wheel, — ^the lines forming the body of the
stave being not rhyming, but alliterative.
The dialect in which it is written has
been decided to be West Midland, proba-
bly Lancashire, and is by no means easy
to understand. Indeed, it is the real diffi-
culty and obscurity of the language,
which, in spite of careful and scholarly
editing, will always place the poem in its
original form outside the range of any
but professed students of mediaeval liter-
ature, which has encouraged me to make
an attempt to render it more accessible
to the general public, by giving it a form
that shall be easily intelligible, and at the
same time preserve as closely as possible
the style of the author.

^preface to Sfivi^t d^Qition vii

For that style, in spite of a certain
roughness, unavoidable at a period in
which the language was still in a partially
developed and amorphous stage, is really
charming. The author has a keen eye
for effect; a talent for description, de-
tailed without becoming wearisome; a
genuine love of Nature and sympathy
with her varying moods; and a real re-
finement and elevation of feeling which
enable him to deal with a m^2// situation
with an absence of coarseness, not, unfor-
tunately, to be always met with in a med-
iaeval writer. Standards of taste vary
with the age, but even judged by that of
our own day the author of Sir Gawain
and the Green Knight comes not all too
badly out of the ordeal !

The story with which the poem deals,
too, has claims upon our interest. I have
shown elsewhere* that the beheading

* * The Legend of Sir Gawain," Grimm Li-
brary, Vol. VIL (Chapter IX. Sir Gawaip and
the Green Knight).

viii ll^ttUtt to ifirfl^t <ltBition

challenge is an incident of very early
occurrence in heroic legend, and that the
particular form given to it in the English
poem is especially interesting, correspond-
ing as it does to the variations of the
story as preserved in the oldest known
version, that of the old Irish FUd Brie-
rend.

But in no other version is the incident
coupled with that of a temptation and
testing of the hero's honour and chastity,
such as meets us here. At first sight one
is inclined to assign the episode of the
lady of the castle to the class of stories of
which the oldest version is preserved in
Biblical record — the story of Joseph and
Potiphar's wife; a motif not unseldom
employed by mediaeval writers, and which
notably occurs in what we may call the
Launfal group of stories. But there are
certain points which may make us hesi-
tate as to whether in its first conception
the tale was really one of this class.

It must be noted that here the lady is

lH^ttUtt to ipirfl(t edition ix

acting throughout with the knowledge
and consent of the husband, an important
point of difference. In the second place,
it is very doubtful whether her entire at-
titude was not a ruse. From the Green
Knight's words to Gawain when he finally
reveals himself, '^I wot we shall soon
make peace with my wife, who was thy
bitter enemy," her conduct hardly seems
to have been prompted by real passion.

In my Studies on the Legend of Sir
Gawain^ already referred to, I have sug-
gested that the character of the lady here
is, perhaps, a reminiscence of that of the
Queen of the Magic Castle or Isle,
daughter or niece of an enchanter, who
at an early stage of Gawain's story was
imdoubtedly his love. I think it not im-
possible that she was an integral part of
the tale as first told, and her rdle here
was determined by that which she origi-
nally played. In most versions of the
story she has dropped out altogether.
It is, of course, possible that, there being

X preface to ifir^^t d^Bition

but a confused reminiscence of the origi-
nal tale, her share may have been modi-
fied by the influence of the Launfal
group; but I should prefer to explain the
episode on the whole as a somewhat dis-
torted survival of an original feature.

But in any case we may be thankful for
this, that the author of the most impor-
tant English metrical romance dealing
with Arthurian legend faithfully adheres
to the original conception of Gawain's
character, as drawn before the monkish
lovers of edification laid their ruthless
hands on his legend, and turned the model
of knightly virtues and courtesy into a
mere vulgar libertine.

Brave, chivalrous, loyally faithful to his
plighted word, scrupulously heedful of his
own and others' honour, Grawain stands
before us in this poem. We take up
Malory or Tennyson, and in spite of their
charm of style, in spite of the halo of re-
ligious mysticism in which they have
striven to enwrap their characters, we lay

If^xtfRtt to Sfitet enition xi

them down with a feeling of dissatisfac-
tion. How did the Gawain of their im-
agination, this empty-headed, empty-
hearted worldling, cruel murderer, and
treacherous friend, ever come to be the
typical English hero ? For such Gawain
certainly was, even more than Arthur
himself. Then we turn back to these
faded pages, and read the quaintly ear-
nest words in which the old writer reveals
the hidden meaning of that mystic sym-
bol, the pentangle, and vindicates Ga-
wain's title to claim it as his badge —
and we smile, perhaps, but we cease to
wonder at the widespread popularity of
King Arthur's famous nephew, or at the
immense body of romance that claims
him as its hero.

Scholars know all this, of course; they
can read the poem for themselves in its
original rough and intricate phraseology;
perhaps they will be shocked at an at-
tempt to handle it in simple form. But
this little book is not for them, and if to

zii :|preface to fitt^t enition

those to whom the tale would otherwise
be a sealed treasure these pages bring
some new knowledge of the way in which
our forefathers looked on the characters
of the Arthurian legend, the tales they
told of them (unconsciously betraying the
while how they themselves lived and
thought and spoke) — if by that means
they gain a keener appreciation of our
national heroes, a wider knowledge of our
national literature, — then the spirit of the
long-dead poet will doubtless not be the
slowest to pardon my handling of what
was his masterpiece, as it is, in M. Gaston
Paris* words, " The jewel of English med-
iaeval literature."

Bournemouth, /um 1898

preface to ^econt iCBition

In preparing this Second Edition I have
adopted certain suggestions of the late
Professor Kolbing, contained in a review
published by him in Englische Studien
xxvi. In one or two instances, however,
I have not felt free to follow his reading
— £.g,^ on page 67, in ptynne sype must
certainly mean ** for the third time^^ not
^^ thrice P The lady has already kissed
Gawain twice during the interview; Pro-
fessor Kolbing's suggestion would make
him receive five kisses, instead of three,
the correct number. Nor do I think the

xiv preface to ^rconn (EBition

story would gain anything by reproducing
the details of the dissection of animals on
page 46. This little series is not intended
for scholars, who can study the original
works for themselves, but for the general
public, and I have therefore avoided any
digression from the main thread of the
story. In the main, however, I have
gladly availed myself of the late Profes-
sor's learned criticisms.

Bournemouth, May 1900

FTBR the siege and the as-Qf tfie
sault of Troy, when thatmaldng:
burg was destroyed andgL^^
burnt to ashes, and the
traitor tried for his trea-
son, the noble iGneas and his kin sailed
forth to become princes and patrons of
weU-nigh all the Western Isles. Thus
Romulus built Rome f and gave to the
city his own name, which it bears even to
this day); and Ticius turned him to Tus-
cany; and Langobard raised him up
dwellings in Lombardy; and Felix Bru-
tus sailed far over the French flood, and
founded the kingdom of Britain, wherein
have been war and waste and wonder, and
bliss and bale, ofttimes since.

And in that kingdom of Britain have
been wrought more gallant deeds than

2 &ir diatoain anD

in any other; but of all British kings Ar-
thur was the most valiant, as I have heard
tell, therefore will I set forth a wondrous
adventure that fell out in his time. And
if ye will listen to me, but for a little
wmle, I will tell it even as it stands in
story stiflF and strong, fixed in the letter,
as it hath long been Kiiown in the land.

HowAr- King Arthur lay at Camelot upon a
tlw hcid Christmas-tide, witn many a gallant lord
^g~f and lovely lady, and all the noble brother-
^^Xt^ood of the Round Table. There they
held rich revels with gay talk and jest;
one while they would riae forth to joust
and tourney, and again back to the court
to make carols ; * for there was the feast
holden fifteen days with all the mirth
that men could devise, song and glee, glo-
rious to hear, in the daytime, and danc-
ing at night. Halls and chambers were
crowded with noble guests, the bravest of
knights and the loveliest of ladies, and
Arthur himself was the comeliest king
that ever held a court. For all this fair
folk were in their youth, the fairest and
most fortunate under heaven, and the

*Dance accompanied by song. Often men-
tioned in old romances.

t^t 6tttn l^nisAt 3

king himself of such fame that it were
hard now to name so valiant a hero.

Now the New Year had but newly New
come in, and on that day a double portion ^^^*
was served on the hign table to jdl the *^^
noble guests, and thither came the king
with aU his knights, when the service in
the chapel had been sung to an end.
And they greeted each other for the New
Year, and gave rich gifts, the one to the
other (and they that received them were
not wroth, that may ye well believe !), and
the maidens laughed and made mirth till
it was time to get them to meat. Then
they washed and sat them down to the
feast in fitting rank and order, and Guin-
evere the queen, gaily clad, sat on the
high dars. Silken was her seat, with a
fair canopy over her head, of rich tapes-
tries of Tars, embroidered, and studded
with costly gems; fair she was to look
upon, with her shining grey eyes, a fairer
woman might no man boast himself of
having seen.

But Arthur would not eat till all were
served, so full of joy and gladness was he,
even as a child; he liked not either to lie
long, or to sit long at meat, so worked
upon him his young blood and his wild

4 ftit tfataiain ant

brain. And another custom he had also,
that came of his nobility, that he would
never eat upon an high dav till he had
been advised of some knigntly deed, or
some strange and marvellous tale, of his
ancestors, or of arms, or of other vent-
ures. Or till some stranger knight should
seek of him leave to joust with one of the
Round Table, that they might set their
lives in jeopardy, one against another, as
fortune might lavour them. Such was
the king's custom when he sat in hall at
each high feast with his noble knights,
therefore on that New Year tide, he
abode, fair of face, on the throne, and
made much mirth withal.
Of fhe Thus the king sat before the high ta-
^^bles, and spake of many things; and
^^^ there good Sir Gawain was seated by
pffffnt Guinevere the ^ueen, and on her other
side sat Agravain, d la dure main; both
were the king's sister's sons and full gal-
lant knights. And at the end of the taole
was Bishop Bawdewyn, and Ywain, King
Urien's son, sat at the other side alone.
These were worthily served on the dais,
and at the lower taoles sat many valiant
knights. Then they bare the first course
with the blast of trumpets and waving of

t^t tf teen Iknigl^t 5

banners, with the sound of drums and
pipes, of song and lute, that many a heart
was uplifted at the melody. Many were
the dainties, and rare the meats, so great
was the plenty they might scarce find
room on the board to set on the dishes.
Each helped himself as he liked best, and
to each two were twelve dishes, with great
plenty of beer and wine.

Now I will say no more of the service, Tiie
but that ye may know there was no lack, Jf^ol tie
for there drew near a venture that thegg^
folk might well have left their labour to^^^
gaze upon. As the sound of the music
ceased, and the first course had been fitly
served, there came in at the hall door one
terrible to behold, of stature greater than
any on earth ; from neck to loin so strong
and thickly made, and with limbs so long
and so great that he seemed even as a
giant. And yet he was but a man, onlv
the mightiest that might mount a steea ;
broad of chest and shoulders and slender
of waist, and all his features of like fash-
ion; but men marvelled much at his col-
our, for he rode even as a knight, yet was
green all over.

For he was clad all in green, with a
straight coat, and a mantife above; all

6 f»it €(afDatn ant

Tbc lull- decked and lined with fur was the doth
io^j'^and the hood that was thrown back from
™*°* his locks and lay on his shoulders. Hose
had he of the same green, and spurs of
bright gold with silken fastenings richly
worked; and all his vesture was verily
green. Around his waist and his saddle
were bands with fair stones set upon silk-
en work, 'twere too long to tell of all the
trifles that were embroidered thereon —
birds and insects in gay gauds of green
Of the and gold. All the trappings of his steed
fcnig^were of metal of like enamel, even the
■•••* stirrups that he stood in stained of the
same, and stirrups and saddle-bow alike

fleamed and shone with green stones,
iven the steed on which he rode was of
the same hue, a green horse, great and
strong, and hard to hold, with broidered
bridle, meet for the rider.

The knight was thus gaily dressed in
green, his hair falling around his shoul-
ders, on his breast hung a beard, as thick
and green as a bush, and the beard and
the hah: of his head were clipped all
round above his elbows. The lower part
of his sleeves were fastened with clasps in
the same wise as a king's mantle. The
horse's mane was crisp and plaited with

tfft €ixetn ^nl%^t 7

many a knot folded in with gold thread
about the fedr green, here a twist of the
hair, here another of gold. The tail was
twined in like manner, and both were
bound about with a band of bright green
set with many a precious stone; then
they were tied aloft in a cunning knot,
whereon rang many bells of burnished
gold. Such a steea might no other ride,
nor had such ever been looked upon in
that hall ere that time; and aU who saw
that knight spake and said that a man
might scarce abide his stroke.

The knight bore no helm nor hauberk, The j
neither gorget nor breast-plate, neither ^^^
shaft nor buckler to smite nor to shield, ™i^*
but in one hand he had a holly-bough,
that is greenest when the groves are bare,
and in his other an axe, huge and im-
comely, a cruel weapon in fashion, if one
would picture it. The head was an ell-
yard long, the metal all of green steel and
gold, the blade burnished bright, with a
broad edge, as well shapen to shear as a
sharp razor. The steel was set into a
strong staff, all bound round with iron,
even to the end, and engraved with green
in cunning work. A lace was twined
about it, that looped at the head, and all

8 f»it €(afDain ant

adown the handle it was clasped with tas-
sels on buttons of bright green richly
broidered.

The knight rideth through the entrance
of the haU, driving straight to the high
dais, and greeted no man, but looked ever
upwards; and the first words he spake
were, "Where is the ruler of this jfolk?
I would gladl)r look upon that hero, and
have speech with him." He cast his eyes
on the knights, and mustered them up
and down, striving ever to see who of
them was of most renown.

Then was there great gazing to behold
that chief, for each man marvelled what
it might mean that a knight and his steed
should have even such a hue as the green
grass; and that seemed even greener than
green enamel on bright gold. All looked
on him as he stood, and drew near imto
him wondering greatlv what he might be ;
for many marvels haa they seen, but none
such as this, and phantasm and faerie did
the folk deem it. Therefore were the
gallant knights slow to answer, and gazed
astounded, and sat stone still in a deep
silence through that goodlv hall, as if a
slumber were fallen upon tnem. I deem
it was not all for doubt, but some for

tift €itttn ^nli^t 9

courtesy that they might give ear unto
his errand.

Then Arthur beheld this adventurer
before his high daYs, and knightly he
greeted him, for fearful was he never.
"Sir," he said, "thou art welcome to this
place — lord of this hall am I, and men
call me Arthur. Light thee down, and
tarry awhile, and what thy will is, that
shall we learn after."

"Nay," quoth the stranger, "so help Of ^
me He that sitteth on high, 'twas notU^t
mine errand to tarry any while in this«™"f^
dwelling; but the praise of this thy folk
and thy city is lifted up on high, and thy
warriors are holden for the best and the
most valiant of those who ride mail-clad
to the fight. The wisest and the worthi-
est of this world are they, and well proven »
in all knightly sports. And here, as I
have heard tell, is fairest courtes)r, there-
fore have I come hither as at this time.
Ye may be sure by the branch that I
bear here that I come in peace, seeking
no strife. For had I willed to journey
in warlike guise I have at home both hau-
berk and helm, shield and shining spear,
and other weapons to mine hand, but
since I seek no war my raiment is that of

lo J^iv €(ataiaiti ant

peace. But if thou be as bold as all men
tell thou wilt freely grant me the boon I
ask."

And Arthur answered, " Sir Knight, if
thou cravest battle here thou shalt not
fail for lack of a foe."

And the knight answered, " Nay, I ask
no fight, in faith here on the benches are
but beardless children, were I clad in ar-
mour on my steed there is no man here
m^ht match me. Therefore I ask in
this court but a Christmas jest, for that
it is Yule-tide, and New Year, and there
are here many fain for sport. If any one
in this hall holds himself so hardy, so bold
both of blood and brain, as to dare strike
me one stroke for another, I will give him
as a gift this axe, which is heavy enough,
in sooth, to handle as he may list, and I
will abide the first blow, unarmed as I sit.
If any knight be so bold as to prove my
words let him come swiftly to me here,
and take this weapon, I quit claim to it,
he may keep it as his own, and I will
abide nis stroke, firm on the floor. Then
shalt thou give me the right to deal him
another, the respite of a year and a day
shall he have. Now haste, and let see
whether any here dare say aught."

Now if the knights had been astounded The li-
at the first, yet stiller were they all, high^*^'
and low, when they had heard his words. SSgiii,
The knight on his steed straightened^^
himself in the saddle, and rolled his eyes
fiercely round the hall, red they gleamed
under his green and bushy brows. He
frowned and twisted his beard, waiting
, to see who should rise, and when none
answered he cried aloud in mockery,
" What, is this Arthur's hall, and these
the knights whose renown hath run
through many realms ? Where are now
your pride and your conquests, your
wrath, and anger, and mighty words?
Now are the praise and the renown of the
Round Table overthrown by one man's
speech, since all keep silence for dread
ere ever they have seen a blow ! "

With that he laughed so loudly that the
blood rushed to the king's fair face for
very shame; he waxed wroth, as did all
his knights, and sprang to his feet, and
drew near to the stranger and said,
" Now by heaven foolish is thy asking,
and thy lolly shall find its fitting answer.
I know no man aghast at thy great words.
Give me here thine axe and I shall grant
Aee the boon thou hast asked." Lightly

\

\

12 fait tfaioiin ant

he sprang to him and caught at his hand,
and the icni^ht, fierce of aspect, lighted
down from his charger.

Then Arthur took the axe and gripped
the haft, and swung it round, ready to
strike. And the knight stood before him,
taller by the head than any in the hall;
he stood, and stroked his beard, and drew
down his coat, no more dismayed for the
king^s threats than if one had brought
him a drink of wine.
Ho^ Sir Then Gawain, who sat by the queen,

Gawmin leaned forward to the king and spake, '' I
^^JJJ^^ beseech ye, my lord, let this venture be

"***^mine. Would ye but bid me rise from
^s seat, and stand by your side, so that
my li^e lady thought it not ill, then
would I come to your coimsel before this
goodly court. For I think it not seemly
when such challenges be made in your
hall that ye yourseff should undertake it,
while there are many bold knights who
sit beside ye, none are there, methinks,
of readier will under heaven, or more val-
iant in open field. I am the weakest, I
wot, and the feeblest of wit, and it will be
the less loss of my life if ye seek sooth.
For save that ye are mine uncle naught is
there in me to praise, no virtue is there in

tlft atttn iiniifft 13

my body save your blood, and since this
cHallenge is such folly that it beseems ye
not to take it, and I have asked it from
ye first, let it fall to me, and if I bear my-
self ungallantly then let all this court
blame me."

Then they all spake with one voice that
the king snould leave this venture and
grant it to Gawain.

Then Arthur commanded the knight
to rise, and he rose up quickly and knelt
down before the king, and caught hold of
the weapon; and 3ie Idn^ loosed his
hold of it, and lifted up his hand, and
gave him his blessing, and bade him be
strong both of heart and hand. "Keep
thee well, nephew," quoth Arthur, "that
thou give him but the one blow, and if
thou redest him rightly I trow thou shalt
well abide the stroke he may give thee
after."

Gawain stepped to the stranger, axe in Tlieiiiak-
hand, and he, never fearing, awaited hisingoltiie
coming. Then the Green Knight spake coveaant
to Sir Gawain, " Make we our covenant
ere we go further. First, I ask thee,
knight, what is thy name? Tell me tru-
ly, that I may know thee."

"In faith," quoth the good knight.

14 f»it €(afDaiit ant

" Gawain am I, who give thee this buffet,
let what may come of it ; and at this time
twelvemonth will I take another at thine
hand with whatsoever weapon thou wilt,
and none other."

Then the other answered again, "Sir
Gawain, so may I thrive as I am fain to
take this buffet at thine hand," and he
quoth further, " Sir Gawain, it liketh me
well that I shall take at thy fist that
which I have asked here, and thou hast
readily and truly rehearsed all the cove-
nant that I asked of the king, save that
thou shalt swear me, by thy troth, to seek
me thyself wherever tnou hopest that I
may be found, and win thee such reward
as thou dealest me to<lay, before this
folk."

"Where shall I seek thee? " quoth Ga-
wain. " Where is thy place ? By Him
that made me, I wot never where thou
dwellest, nor know I thee, knight, thy
court, nor thy name. But teach me truly
all that pertaineth thereto, and tell me
thy name, and I shall use all mv wit
to win my way thither, and tnat I
swear thee for sooth, and by my sure
troth."

"That is enough in the New Year, it

tift 0reeit ^ni%fft 15

needs no more," quoth the Green Knight
to the gallant Gawam, " if I tell thee tnily
when I have taken the blow, and thou
hast smitten me; then will I teach thee
of my house and home, and mine own
name, then mayest thou ask thy road and
keep covenant. And if I waste no words
then farest thou the better, for thou canst
dwell in thy land, and seek no further.
But take now thy toll, and let see how
thou strikest."

" Gladly will I," quoth Gawain, hand-
ling his axe.

Then the Green Knight swiftly made The|lv-
him ready, he bowed down his head, ^^^^SS^^
laid his lon^ locks on the crown that his"*""^
bare neck might be seen. Gawain gripped
his axe and raised it on high, the left foot
he set forward on the floor, and let the
blow fall lightly on the bare neck. The
sharp edge of the blade sundered the
bones, smote through the neck, and clave
it in two, so that the edge of the steel bit
on the ground, and the fair head fell to
the earth that many struck it with their
feet as it rolled forth. The blood spurted
forth, and glistened on the green raiment,
but the knight neither faltered nor fell;
he started forward with out-stretched

i6 f»it tfafoain ant

The flutf-hand, and caught the head, and lifted it

^gI^^P* then he turned to his steed, and took

j^^hold of the bride, set his foot in the stir-

^^ nip, and mounted. His head he held by

the hair, in his hand. Then he seated

himself in his saddle as if naught ailed

him, and he were not headless. He

turned his steed about, the grim corpse

bleeding freely the while, and they who

looked upon him doubted them much for

the covenant.

For he held up the head in his hand,
and turned the face towards them that sat
on the high daXs, and it lifted up the eye-
lids and looked upon them and spake as
ye shall hear. "Look, Gawain, that thou
art ready to go as thou hast promised,
and seek leally till thou find me, even as
thou hast sworn in this hall in the hear-
ing of these knights. Come thou, I
charge thee, to the Green Chapel, such a
stroke as thou hast dealt thou hast de-
served, and it shall be promptly paid
thee on New Year's morn. Many men
know me as the knight of the Green
Chapel, and if thou askest, thou shalt
not fail to find me. Therefore it be-
hoves thee to come, or to yield thee as
recreant."

lift €itttn iftntglit 17

With that he turned his bridle, and gal-
loped out at the hall door, his head in his
hands, so that the sparks flew from be-
neath his horse's hoofs. Whither he
went none knew, no more than they
wist whence he had come; and the Idng^
and Gawain they gazed and laughed,
for in sooth this had proved a greater
marvel than any they had known afore-
time.

Though Arthur the king was aston-
ished at his heart, yet he let no sign of it
be seen, but spake in courteous wise to
the fair queen : " Dear lady, be not dis-
mayed, such craft is well suited to Christ-
mas-tide when we seek jesting, laughter
and song, and fair carols of Imights and
ladies. But now I may well get me to
meat, for I have seen a marvel I may not
forget." Then he looked on Sir Gawain,
and said gaily, " Now, fair nephew, hang
up thine axe, since it has hewn enough,"
and they hung it on the dossal above the
dais, where all men might look on it for a
marvel, and by its true token tell of the
wonder. Then the twain sat them down
together, the king and the good knight,
and men served them with a double por-
tion, as was the share of the noblest, with
2

i8 &ir €(aioain ant

all manner of meat and of minstrelsy.
And they spent that day in gladness, but
Sir Gawain must well tiethink him of the
heavy venture to which he had set his
hand.

tJft 0reen Uniilft

HIS b^^inning of adventures
had Arthur at the New
Year; for he yearned to
hear gsdlant tales, though
his words were few when
he sat at the feast. But now had they
stem work on hand. Gawain was glad
to begin the jest in the hall, but ye need
have no marvel if the end be heavy. For
though a man be merry in mind when he
has well drunk, yet a year nms full swift-
ly, and the beginning but rarely matches
tne end.

For Yule was now over-past, and theTiicwa-
year after, each season in its turn follow- ^8: <rf
mg the other. For after Christmas ^^^^^
comes crabbed Lent, that will have fish
for flesh and simpler cheer. But then
the weather of the world chides with

20 &it tf atoain atiD

winter; the cold withdraws itself, the
clouds uplift, and the rain falls in warm
showers on the fair plains. Then the
flowers come forth, meadows and grove
are clad in green, the birds make re^y to
build, and sing sweetly for solace of the
soft summer that follows thereafter. The
blossoms bud and blow in the hedgerows
rich and rank, and noble notes enough
are heard in the fair woods.

After the season of summer, with the
soft winds, when zephyr breathes lightly
on seeds and herbs, joyous indeed is the

frowth that waxes thereout when the dew
rips from the leaves beneath the bliss-
ful glance of the bright sun. But then
comes harvest and hardens the grain,
warning it to wax ripe ere the winter.
The drought drives the dust on high, fly-
ing over the face of the land; the angry
wind of the welkin wrestles with the sun ;
the leaves fall from the trees and light
upon the ground, and all brown are the
groves that but now were green, and ripe
IS the fruit that once was flower. So the
year passes into many yesterdays, and
winter comes again, as it needs no sage
to tell us.
When the Michaelmas moon was come

tift tf reen Jbnigl^e 21

in with warnings of winter, Sir GawainSif Ga-
bethought him full oft of his perilous ^^^^
journey. Yet till All Hallows Day he^^j^i,
lingered with Arthur, and on that day covenant
they made a great feast for the hero s
sake, with much revel and richness of the
Round Table. Courteous knights and
comely ladies, all were in sorrow for the
love of that knight, and though they
spake no word of it, many were joyless
for his sake.

And after meat, sadly Sir Gawain
turned to his uncle, and sp^e of his jour-
ney, and said, "Liege lord of my life,
leave from you I crave. Ye know well
how the matter stands without more
words, to-morrow am I bound to set forth
in search of the Green Knight."

Then came together all the noblest
knights, Ywain and Erec, and many an-
other. Sir Dodinel le Sauvage, the Duke
of Clarence, Launcelot and Lionel, and
Lucan the Good, Sir Bors and Sir Bedi-
vere, valiant knights both, and many an-
other hero, with Sir Mador de la rorte,
and they all drew near, heavy at heart, to
take counsel with Sir Gawain. Much
sorrow and weeping was there in the
hall to think that so worthy a knight as

IK

33 fsit tfatoain anD

Gawain should wend his way to seek a
deadly blow, and should no more wield
his sword in fight. But the knight made
ever good cheer, and said, " Nay, where-
fore should I shrink? What may a man
do but prove his fate ? "
Tlie ann- He dwelt there all that day, and on the
p of Sir mom he arose and asked betimes for his
^armour; and they brought it unto him
on this wise: first, a rich carpet was
stretched on the floor (and brightly did
the gold gear glitter upon it), then the
Imight stepped on to it, and handled the
steel; clad he was in a doublet of silk,
with a close hood, lined fairly throughout.
Then they set the steel shoes upon his
feet, and wrapped his legs with greaves,
with polished knee-caps, fastened with
knots of gold. Then they cased his
thighs in cuisses closed with thongs, and
brought him the bymy of bright steel
rings sewn upon a fair stuff. Well bur-
nished braces they set on each arm with
good elbow-pieces, and gloves of mail,
and all the goodly gear that should shield
him in his need. And they cast over all
a rich surcoat, and set the golden spurs
on his heels, and girt him with a trusty
sword fastened with a silken bawdrick.

lift €itttn ftnigl^t 23

When he was thus clad his harness was
costly, for the least loop or latchet
gleamed with gold. So armed as he was
he hearkened Mass and made his offering
at the high altar. Then he came to the
Idngy and the knights of his court, and
courteously took leave of lords and ladies,
and they kissed him, and commended
him to Christ.

With that was Gringalet ready, g^rt
with a saddle that gleamed gaily with
many golden fringes, enriched and decked
anew for the venture. The bridle was all
barred about with bright gold buttons,
and all the covertures and trappings of
the steed, the crupper and the rich skirts,
accorded with the saddle; spread fair
with the rich red gold that glittered and
gleamed in the rays of the sun.

Then the knight called for his helmet,
which was well lined throughout, and set
it high on his head, and hasped it behind.
He wore a light kerchief over the vintail,
that was broUered and studded with fair
gems on a broad silken ribbon, with birds
of gay colour, and many a turtle and true-
lovers knot interlaced thickly, even as
many a maiden had wrought diligently
for seven winter long. But the circlet

24 fs>it tfatoain atiD

Wliofe- which crowned his helmet was yet more
fore Sif precious, being adorned with a device in
2^^ diamonds. Then they brought him his
pcntangk shield, which was of bright red, with the
pentangle painted thereon in gleaming
gold. And why that noble prince bare
5ie pentangle I am minded to tell you,
though my tale tarry thereby. It is a
sign that Solomon set ere-while, as be-
tokening truth ; for it is a figure with five
points and each line overlaps the other,
and nowhere hath it beginning or end, so
that in English it is csdled " the endless
knot." And therefore was it well suiting
to this knight and to his arms, since Ga-
wain was faithful in five and five-fold, for
pure was he as gold, void of all villainy
and endowed with all virtues. Therefore
he bare the pentangle on shield and sur-
coat as truest of heroes and gentlest of
knights.

For first he was faultless in his five
senses; and his five fingers never failed
him ; and all his trust upon earth was in
the five wounds that Christ bare on the
cross, as the Creed tells. And wherever
this knight found himself in stress of bat-
tle he deemed well that he drew his
strength from the five joys which the

tl^e tf reen Jbnigl^t 25

Queen of Heaven had of her ChUd. And
for this cause did he bear an image of Our
Lady on the one half of his shield, that
whenever he looked upon it he might not
lack for aid. And the fifth five Aat the
hero used were frankness and fellowship
above all, purity and courtesy that never
failed him, and compassion that surpasses
all; and in these five virtues was that
hero wrapped and clothed. And all these,
five-fold, were linked one in the other, so
that they had no end, and were fixed on
five points that never failed, neither at
any side were they joined or sundered,
nor could ye find beginning or end. And
therefore on his shield was the knot
shapen, red-gold upon red, which is the
pure pentangle. Now was Sir Gawain
ready, and he took his lance in hand, and
bade them all Farewell^ he deemed it had
been for ever.

Then he smote the steed with his How Sir
spurs, and sprang on his way, so that Gawain
sparks flew from the stones after him.^^*
AH that saw him were grieved at heart,
and said one to the other, " By Christ, 'tis
gjeat pity that one of such noble life
should be lost ! I' faith, 'twere not easy
to find his equal upon earth. The king

26 f^it tfBiDBin anil

had done better to have wrought more
warily. Yonder knight should have been
made a duke; a galknt leader of men is
he, and such a fate had beseemed him
better than to be hewn in pieces at the
will of an elfish man, for mere pride.
"Ulio ever knew a king to take such coun-
sel as to risk his knights on a Christmas
jest ? " Many were the tears that flowed
from their eyes when that goodly knight
rode from the hall. He made no delay-
ing, but went his way swiftly, and rode
many a wild road, as I heard say in the
book.
Of Sir So rode Sir Gawain through the realm
GaiRi^^tof Logresj on an errand that he held for
"^ no jest. Often he lay companionless at
nignt, and must lack the tare that he
liked. No comrade had he save his steed,
and none save God with whom to take
counsel. At length he drew nigh to
North Wales, and left the isles of Angle-
sey on his left hand, crossing over the
fords by the foreland over at Holyhead,
till he came into the wilderness of Wirral,
where but few dwell who love God and
man of true heart. And ever he asked,
as he fared, of all whom he met, if they
had heard any tidings of a Green Knight

tift tfreen Jbnigl^t 27

in the country thereabout, or of a Green
Chapel? And all answered him, Nay,
never in their lives had they seen any
man of such a hue. And the knight
wended his way by many a strange road
and many a rugged path, and the fashion
of his countenance changed full often ere
he saw the Green Chapel.

Many a cliff did he climb in that un-
known land, where afar from his friends
he rode as a stranger. Never did he
come to a stream or a ford but he found
a foe before him, and that one so marvel-
lous, so foul and fell, that it behoved him
to fight. So many wonders did that
knight behold, that it were too long to
tell the tenth part of them. Sometimes
he fought with dragons and wolves ; some-
times with wild men that dwelt in the
rocks; another whUe with bulls, and
bears, and wild boars, or with giants of
the high moorland that drew near to him.
Had he not been a doughty knight, en-
during, and of well-provS valour, and a
servant of God, doubtless he had been
slain, for he was oft in danger of death.
Yet he cared not so much for the strife,
what he deemed worse was when the cold
clear water was shed from the clouds, and

28 fsit tf atoain atiD

froze ere it fell on the fallow ground.
More nights than enough he slept in his
harness on the bare rocks, near slain with
the sleet, while the stream leapt bubbling
from the crest of the hills, and hung in
hard icicles over his head.

Thus in peril and pain, and many a
hardship, the knight rode alone till Christ-
mas Eve, and in that tide he made his
prayer to the Blessed Virgin that she
would guide his steps and lead him to
some dwelling. On that morning he
rode by a hill, and came into a thick for-
est, wild and drear; on each side were
high hills, and thick woods below them of
great hoar oaks, a hundred together, of
hazel and hawthorn with their trailing
boughs intertwined, and rough ragged
moss spreading everywhere. On the
bare twigs the birds chirped piteously, for
pain of the cold. The knight upon Grin-
galet rode lonely beneath them, through
marsh and mire, much troubled at heart
lest he should fail to see the service of
the Lord, who on that self-same night
was bom of a maiden for the cure of our
grief; and therefore he said, sig
beseech Thee, Lord, and Marv
tie Mother, for some shelter wnere 1 may

hear Mass, and Thy mattins at mom.
This I ask meekly, and thereto I pray
my Paternoster, Ave, and Credo." Thus
he rode praying, and lamenting his mis-
deeds, and he crossed himself, and said,
" May the Cross of Christ speed me."

Now that knight had crossed himself How Sir
but thrice ere he was aware in the wood Gawaln
of a dwelling within a moat, above a lawn, ?*P5*^
on a moimd surrounded by many mighty ^^^^t
trees that stood round the moat. 'Twas mas Ev«
the fairest castle that ever a knight
owned; built in a meadow with a park sdl
about it, and a spiked palisade, closely
driven, that enclosed the trees for more
than two miles. The knight was ware
of the hold from the side, as it shone
through the oaks. Then he lifted off his
helmet, and thanked Christ and S. Julian
that they had courteously granted his
prayer, and hearkened to his cry. " Now,"
quoth the knight, " I beseech ye, grant
me fair hostel." Then he pricked Grin-
galet with his golden spurs, and rode gaily
towards the great gate, and came swftly
to the bridge end.

The bridge was drawn up and the gates
close shut; the walls were strong and
thick, so that they might fear no tempegt.

30 &it tf aioain anD

The knight on his charger abode on the
bank of the deep double ditch that sur-
rounded the castle. The walls were set
deep in the water, and rose aloft to a
wondrous height ; they were of hard hewn
stone up to the corbels, which were
adorned beneath the battlements with
fair carvings, and turrets set in between
with many a loophole; a better barbican
Sir Gawam had never looked upon. And
within he beheld the high haJl, with its
tower and many windows with carven cor-
nices, and chalk-white chimneys on the
turreted roofs that shone fair in the sun.
And everywhere, thickly scattered on the
castle battlements, were pinnacles, so
many that it seemed as k it were all
wrought out of paper, so white was it.

The knight on his steed deemed it fair
enough, if he might come to be sheltered
within to lodge there while that the Holy-
day lasted. He called aloud, and soon
there came a porter of kindly counte-
nance, who stood on the wall and greeted
this knight and asked his errand.

"Good sir," quoth Gawain, "wilt thou
go mine errand to the high lord of the
castle, and crave for me lodging ? "

"Yea, by S. Peter," quoth ttie porter.

tl^e tfreen ftnigl^t 31

" In sooth I trow that ye be welcome to
dwell here so long as it may like ye."

Then he went, and came again swif tly. How Sv
and many folk with him to receive theGa-w^^
knight. They let down the great draw-^^^^
bridge, and came forth and knelt on their
knees on the cold earth to give him
worthy welcome. They held wide open
the grest gates, and courteously he bid
them rise, and rode over the bridge.
Then men came to him and held his stir-
rup while he dismounted, and took and
stabled his steed. There came down
knights and squires to bring the guest
with joy to the hall. When he raisai his
helmet there were many to take it from
his hand, fain to serve hmi, and they took
from him sword and shield.

Sir Gawain gave good greeting to the
noble and the mighty men who came to
do him honour. Clad in his shining ar-
mour thev led him to the hall, where a
great fire Dumt brightly on the floor; and
3ie lord of the household came forth from
his chamber to meet the hero fitly. He
spake to the knight, and said: "Ye are
welcome to do here as it likes ye. All
that is here is your own to have at your
will and disposed."

32 &ir tfatoain atiD

"Gramercy!" quoth Gawain, "may
Christ requite ye."

As friends that were fain each em-
braced the other; and Gawain looked on
the knight who greeted him so kindly,
and thought 'twas a bold warrior that
owned that burg.

Of mighty stature he was, and of high
age; broad and flowing was his beard,
and of a bright hue. He was stalwart of
lunb, and strong in his stride, his face
fiery red, and his speech free: in sooth he
seemed one well fitted to be a leader of
valiant men.

Then the lord led Sir Gawam to a
chamber, and commanded folk to wait
upon him, and at his bidding there came
men enough who broujght the guest to a
fair bower. The bedding was noble, with
curtains of pure silk wrought with gold,
and wondrous coverings of fair cloth sdl
embroidered. The curtains ran on ropes
with rings of red gold, and the walls were
hung with carpets of Orient, and the
same spread on the floor. There with
mirthful speeches they took from the
guest his Dymy and all his shining ar-
mour, and brought him rich robes of the
choicest in its stead. They were long

tift €itttn Ibnigl^t 33

and flowing, and became him well, and
when he was clad in them all who looked
on the hero thought that surely God had
never made a fairer knight : he seemed as
if he might be a prince without peer in
the field where men strive in battle.

Then before the hearth-place, whereon
the fire burned, they made ready a chair
for Gawain, hung about with cloth and
fair cushions; and there they cast around
him a mantle of brown samite, richly em-
broidered and furred within with costly
skins of ermine, with a hood of the same,
and he seated himself in that rich seat,
and warmed himself at the fire, and was
cheered at heart. And while he sat thus
the serving men set up a table on trestles,
and cover«i it with a fair white cloth, and
set thereon salt-cellar, and napkin, and
silver spoons; and the knight washed at
his will, and set him down to meat.

The folk served him courteously with
many dishes seasoned of the best, a dou-
ble portion. All kinds of fish were there,
some baked in bread, some broiled on the
embers, some sodden, some stewed and
savoured with spices, with all sorts of
cunning devices to his taste. And often
he called it a feast, when they spake gaily
3

34 fs>it tf atoain atiD

to him all together, and said, " Now take

ye this penance, and it shall be for your

amendment." Much mirth thereoi did

Sir Gawain make.

Sir Ga- Then they questioned that prince cour-

wilntellsteously of whence he came; and he told
hb name ^^^^ ^j^^^ j^^ ^^^g ^f ^j^^ ^^^^^ ^j Arthur,

who is the rich royal King of the Round
Table, and that it was Gawain himself
who was within their walls, and would
keep Christmas with them, as the chance
had fallen out. And when the lord of
the castle heard those tidings he laughed
aloud for gladness, and all men in that
keep were joyful that they should be in
the company of him to whom belonged all
fame, and valour, and courtesy, and whose
honour was praised above that of all men
on earth. Each said softly to his fellow,
"Now shall we see courteous bearing,
and the manner of speech befitting courts.
What charm lieth in gentle speech shall
we learn without asking, since here we
have welcomed the fine father of courtesy.
God has surely shewn us His grace since
He sends us such a guest as Gawain!
When men shall sit and sing, blithe for
Christ's birth, this knight sl^l bring us
to the knowledge of fair manners, and it

tlie 6tttn Sinislit 35

may be that hearing him we may learn
the cunning speech of love."

By the time the knight had risen from
dinner it was near nightfall. Then chap-
lains took their way to the chapel, and
rang loudly, even as they should, for the
solemn evensong of the high feast.
Thither went the lord, and the lady also,
and entered with her maidens mto a
comely closet, and thither also went
Gawam. Then the lord took him by the
sleeve and led him to a seat, and called
him by his name, and told him he was of
sLU men in the world the most welcome.
And Sir Gawain thanked him truly, and
each kissed the other, and they sat grave-
ly together throughout the service.

Then was the lady fain to look upon The kdy
that knight ; and she came forth from her <^^
closet with many fair maidens. The fcdr- ***^
est of ladies was she in face, and figure,
and colouring, fairer even than Guinevere,
so the knight thought. She came through
the chancel to greet the hero, another
lady held her by the left hand, older than
she, and seemmgly of high estate, with
many nobles about her. But unlike to
look upon were those ladies, for if the
younger were fair, the elder was yellow.

36 ^ir €(atoain and

Rich red were the cheeks of the one,
rough and wrinkled those of the other;
the kerchiefs of the one were broidefed
with many glistening pearls, her throat
and neck oare, and whiter than the snow
tbat lies on the hills; the neck of the
other was swathed in a gorget, with a
white wimple over her black chin. Her
forehead was wrapped in silk with many
folds, worked with knots, so that naught
of her was seen save her black brows, her
eyes, her nose, and her lips, and those
were bleared, and ill to look upon. A
worshipful lady in sooth one might call
her ! In figure was she short and broad,
and thickly made — ^far fairer to behold
was she whom she led by the hand.

When Gawain beheld that fair lady,
who looked at him graciously, with leave
of the lord he went towards them, and,
bowing low, he greeted the elder, but the
younger and fairer he took lightly in his
arms, and kissed her courteously, and
greeted her in knightly wise. Then she
hailed him as friend, and he quickly
prayed to be counted as her servant, if
she so willed. Then they took him be-
tween them, and talking, led him to the
chamber, to the hearth, and bade them

tift 6tttn Sinislit 37

bring spices, and they brought them in
plenty with the good wine that was wont
to be drunk at such seasons. Then the
lord sprang to his feet and bade them
make merry, and took ofif his hood, and
hung it on a spear, and bade him win the
worship thereof who should make most
mirth that Christmas-tide. " And I shall
try, by my faith, to fool it with the best,
by the help of my friends, ere I lose my
raiment." Thus with gay words the lord
made trial to gladden Gawain with jests
that night, till it was time to bid them
light the tapers, and Sir Gawain took
leave of them and gat him to rest.

In the mom when all men call to mind Of the
how Christ our Lord was bom on earth ^**''*^.
to die for us, there is joy, for His sake, in *"*•"■*
all dwellings of the world; and so was
there here on that day. For high feast
was held, with many dainties and cun-
ningly cooked messes. On the dars sat
galknt men, clad in their best. The an-
cient dame sat on the high seat, with the
lord of the castle beside her. Gawain
and the fair lady sat togedier, even in the
midst of the board, when the feast was
served; and so throughout all the hall
each sat in his degree, and was served in

38 9»it €(atoain and

order. There was meat, there was mirth,
there was much joy, so that to tell there-
of would take me too long, though perad-
venture I might strive to declare it. But
Gawain and that fair lady had much joy
of each other's company through ner
sweet words and courteous converse.
And there was music made before each
prince, trumpets and drums, and merry
piping ; each man hearkened his minstrel,
and they too hearkened theirs.

How tiie •^ ^^y ^^^^ ^^"^ ^^^^ *^^ ^y ^^^

feait came the next, and the third day ther^ter,
to an end and the joy on S. John's Day was fair to
^^^" hearken, for 'twas the last of the feast
^JJ[jand the guests would depart in the grey
tWcaitleof the morning. Therefore they awoke
early, and drank wine, and danced fair
carols, and at last, when it was late, each
man took his leave to wend early on his
way. Gawain would bid his host fare-
well, but the lord took him by the hand,
and led him to his own chamber beside
the hearth, and there he thanked him for
the favour he had shown him in honour-
ing his dwelling at that hijgh season,
and gladdening his castle with his fair
countenance. "I wis, sir, that while I
live I shall be held the worthier that

t^e 6tttn fknlilft 39

Gawain has been my guest at Grod's own
feast."

"Gramercv, sir," quoth Gawain, "in
good faith, all the honour is yours, may
the High King give it you, and I am but
at your will to work your behest, inas-
much as I am beholden to you in great
and small by rights."

Then the lord did his best to persuade
the knight to tarry with him, but Gawain
answered that he might in no wise do so.
Then the host asked him courteously
what stem behest had driven him at the
holy season from the king's court, to
fare all alone, ere yet the feast was ended ?

"Forsooth," quoth the knight, "ye say
but the truth: 'tis a high quest and a

fressing that hath brought me afield, for
am summoned myself to a certain place,
and I know not whither in the world I
may wend to find it; so help me Christ,
I would give all the kingdom of Logres
an I might find it by New Year's mom.
Therefore, sir, I make request of you that
ye tell me tmly if ye ever heard word of
the Green Chapel, where it may be found,
and the Green Knight that keeps it.
For I am pledged by solemn compact
sworn between us to meet that knight at

40 ^ir ti^atDsiti atitt

the New Year if so I were on life; and of
that same New Year it wants but little —
I' faith, I would look on that hero more
joyfully than on any other fair sight!
Therefore, by your wll, it behoves me to
leave you, for I have but barely three
days, and I would as fain fall dead as fail
of mine errand."

Then the lord quoth, laughing, " Now
must ye needs stay, for I will show you
your goal, the Green Chapel, ere your
term be at an end, have ye no fear I But
y^e can take your ease, friend, in vour bed,
till the fourth day, and go f ortn on the
first of the year and come to that place at
mid-mom to do as ye will. Dwell here
till New Year's Day, and then rise and
set forth, and ye shaU be set in the way;
*tis not two miles hence."

Then was Gawain glad, and he laughed
gaily. " Now I thank you for this above
all else. Now my quest is achieved I will
dwell here at your wUl, and otherwise do
as ye shall ask."

Then the lord took him, and set him
beside him, and bade the ladies be fetched
for their greater pleasure, tho' between
themselves they had solace. The lord,
for gladness, made merry jest, even as

t^t 6tttn ftnigllt 41

one who wist not what to do for joy; and
he cried aloud to the knight, " Ye have
promised to do the thing I bid ye : will
ye hold to this behest, here, at once ? "

"Yea, forsooth," said that true knight,
"while I abide in your burg I am bound
by your behest."

" Ye have travelled from far," said the
host, " and since then ye have waked wi A
me, ye are not well refreshed by rest and
sleep, as I know. Ye shall therefore
abide in your chamber, and lie at your
ease to-morrow at Mass-tide, and go to
meat when ye will with my wife, who
shall sit with you, and comfort you with
her company till I return ; and I shall rise
early and go forth to the chase." And
Gawain agreed to all this courteously.

"Sir knight," quoth the host, "we will Sir Ga-
make a covenant. Whatsoever I win in ]^^^
the wood shall be yours, and whatever Jj^^ii
may fall to ]^our share, that shall ye ex-with!ib
change for it. Let us swear, friend, to host
make this exchange, however our hap
may be, for worse or for better."

'^I grant ye your will," quoth Gawain
the good; "if ye list so to do, it liketh
me well."

"Bring hither the wine-cup, the bar-

42 >ir ^utBuln Him

gain is made/' so said the lord of that
castle. They laughed each one, and
drank of the wine, and made merry, these
lords and ladies, as it pleased them.
Then with gay talk and merry jest they
arose, and stood, and spoke sc^tly, and
kissed courteously, and took leave of each
other. With burning torches, and many
a serving-man, was each led to his couch ;
yet ere Siey gat them to bed the old lord
oft repeated their covenant, for he knew
well how to make sport.

t^t 6tttn Iktiislit

ULL early, ere daylight, the The fint
folk rose up; the guests day^s
who would depart call«i ^""*****8^
their grooms, and they
made them ready, and sad-
dled the steeds, tightened up the giirths,
and trussed up their mails. The knights,
all arraved for riding, leapt up lightly,
and tooK their bridles, and each rode his
way as pleased him best.

The lord of the land was not the last.
Ready for the chase, with many of his
men, he ate a sop hastily when he had
heanl Mass, and then with blast of the
bugle fared forth to the field. He and
his nobles were to horse ere daylight
glimmered upon the earth.

Then the huntsmen coupled their
hounds, unclosed the kennel door, and
called them out. They blew three blasts

44 f^it tfiatDaiti atitt

gaily on the bugles, the hounds ba]^ed
fiercely, and they that would go a-huntinfi^
checked and chastised them. A hundred
hunters there were of the best, so I have
heard tell. Then the trackers gat tibem
to the trysting-place and uncoupled the
hounds, and the forest rang again with
their gay blasts.

At the first sound of the hunt the
game quaked for fear, and fled, trem-
bling, along the vale. Thejr betook them
to the heights, but the liers in wait turned
them back with loud cries; the harts
they let pass them, and the stags with
their spreading antlers, for the lord had
forbidden that they should be slain, but
the hinds and the does they turned back,
and drave down into the valleys. Then
might ye see much shooting of arrows.
As the deer fled under the boughs a
broad whistling shaft smote and wounded
each sorely, so that, wounded and bleed-
ing, they fell d)ring on the banks. The
hounds followed swiftly on their tracks,
and hunters, blowing tne hori^ sped after
them with ringing shouts as it the cliffs
burst asunder. What game escaped
those that shot was run down at the outer
ring. Thus were they driven on the hills^

tift 6tttn Uniilft 45

and harassed at the waters, so well did
the men know their work, and the grey-
hounds were so great and swift that they
ran them down as fast as the hunters
could slay them. Thus the lord passed
the day in mirth and joyfulness, even to
nightfall.

So the lord roamed the woods, and Ga- How the
wain, that good knight, lay ever 2i-^^>^^^L^
curtained about, under the costly cover- ^^^^
let, while the daylight gleamed on the sir Ga-
walls. And as he lay half slumbering, he wain
heard a little sound at the door, and he
raised his head, and caught back a comer
of the curtain, and waited to see what it
might be. It was the lovely lady, the
lord's wife ; she shut the door softly be-
hind her, and turned towards the bed;
and Gawain was shamed, laid him down
softly and made as if he slept. And she
came lightlv to the bedside, within the
curtain, ana sat herself down beside him,
to wait till he wakened. The knight lay
there awhile, and marvelled within him-
self what her coming might betoken;
and he said to himself, "'Twere more
seemly if I asked her what hath brought
her hither." Then he made feint to
waken, and turned towards her, and

46 &ir tfiHtDaiti atiB

opened his eyes as one astonished, and
crossed himself; and she looked on him
laughing, with her cheeks red and white,
lovely to behold, and small smiling lips.

" (rood morrow. Sir Gawain," said that
fair lady ; "ye are but a careless sleeper,
since one can enter thus. Now are ye
taken unawares, and lest ye escape me I
shall bind you in your bed ; of that be ye
assured!" Laughing, she spake these
words.

" Good morrow, fair lady," quoth Ga-
wam blithely. " I will do vour will, as it
likes me well. For I yield me readily,
and pray your grace, and that is best, by
my faith, since I needs must do so.^'
Thus he jested again, laughing. " But an
ye would, fair lady, grant me this grace
that ye pray your prisoner to rise. I
would get me from bed, and array me
better, then could I talk with ye in more
comfort."

"Nay, forsooth, fair sir," quoth the
lady, "ye shall not rise, I will rede ye bet-
ter. I shall keep ye here, since ye can
do no other, and talk with my Knight
whom I have captured. For I know well
that ye are Sir Gawain, whom all the
world worships, wheresoever ye may ride.

lift 6tnn Sinigtit 47

Your honour and vour courtesy are

5 raised by lords and ladies, by ail who
ve. Now ye are here and we are alone,
my lord and his men are afield; the serv-
ing men in their beds, and my maidens
also, and the door shut upon us. And
since in this hour I have him that all
men love, I shall use my time well with
speech, while it lasts. Ye are welcome
to my company, for it behoves me in
sooth to be your servant."

"In gooa faith," quoth Gawain, "I
think me that I am not him of whom ye
speak, for unworthy am I of such service
as ye here proflfer. In sooth, I were glad
if 1 might set myself by word or service
to your pleasure; a pure joy would it be
tome!"

" In good faith. Sir Gawain," quoth the
gay lady, "the praise and the prowess
that pleases all ladies I lack them not, nor
hold them light; yet are there ladies
enough who would liever now have the
knight in their hold, as I have ve here, to
dally with your courteous words, to bring
them comfort and to ease their cares,
than much of the treasure and the gold
that are theirs. And now, through the
grace of Him who upholds the heavens,

48 f»it €(atoaiti Hnd

I have wholly m my power that which
they all desire ! "

Thus the lady, fair to look upon, made
him great cheer, and Sir Gawain, with
modest words, answered her again : " Mad-
am," he quoth, " may Mary requite ye,
for in eood faith I nave found in ye a
noble frankness. Much courtesy have
other folk shown me, but the honour they
have done me is naught to the worship ot
yourself, who knoweth but good."

"By Mary," quoth the lady, "I think
otherwise; tor were I worth all the wom-
en alive, and had I the wealth of the
world in my hand, and might choose me
a lord to my liking, then, for all that I
have seen in ye. Sir Knight, of besauty
and courtesy and blithe semblance, ana
for all that I have hearkened and hold for
true, there should be no knight on earth
to be chosen before ye ! "

" Well I wot," auoth Sir Gawain, " that
ye have chosen a oetter ; but I am proud
that ye should so prize me, and as your
servant do I hold ye my sovereign, and
your knight am I, and may Christ reward
ye."

So they talked of many matters till
mid-mom was past, and ever the lady

t^t 6tttn ^ni%^t 49

made as though she loved him, and the
knight turned her speech aside. For
though she were the brightest of maidens,
yet had he forborne to shew her love for
the danger that awaited him, and the blow
that must be given without delay.

Then the lady prayed her leave from
him, and he gnmted it readilv. And
she have him good-day, with laughing
glance, but he must needs marvel at her
words:

" Now He that speeds fair speech re-
ward ye this disport ; but that ye be Ga-
wain my mind misdoubts me greatly."

"Wherefore?" quoth the knight
quickly, fearing lest he had lacked in
some courtesy.

And the ladv spake : " So true a knight
as Gawain is nolden, and one so perfect
in courtesy, would never have tarried so
long with a lady but he would of his
courtesy have craved a kiss at parting."

Then quoth Gawain, "I wot I will doHowth*
even as it may please ye, and kiss at your ^|^
commandment, as a true knight should ^JJJJj^
who forbears to ask for fear of displeas-
ure."

At that she came near and bent down
and kissed the knight, and each com-
4

50 fsit tfiatoain ant

mended the other to Christ, and she went
forth from the chamber softly.

Then Su* Gawain arose and called his
chamberlain and chose his garments, and
when he was ready he gat him forth to
Mass, and then went to meat, and made
merry all day till the rising of the moon,
and never had a knight fairer lodging
than had he with those two noble ladies,
the elder and the younger.

And even the lord of the land chased
the hinds through holt and heath till
eventide, and then with much blowing of
bugles and baying of hounds they bore
the game homeward; and by the time
daylight was done all the folk had re-
turned to that fair castle. Ajid when the
lord and Sir Gawain met together, then
were they both well pleased. The lord
commanded them all to assemble in the
great hall, and the ladies to descend with
their maidens, and there, before them all,
he bade the men fetch in the spoil of the
day's hunting, and he called unto Gawain,
and counted the tale of the beasts, and
showed them unto him, and said, " What
think ye of this game. Sir Knight } Have
I deserved of ye thanks for my wood-
craft?"

t%t €itttn iini%1ft 51

"Yea, I wis," quoth the other, "here How tfie
is the fairest spoil I have seen this seven covenant
year in the winter season." '^^ ^^

" And all this do I give ye, Gawain,"
quoth the host, "for by accord of cove-
nantye may claim it as your own."

"TTiat is sooth," quoth the other, "I
grant you that same; and I have fairly
won this within walls, and with as good
will do I yield it to ye." With that he
clasped his hands round the lord's neck
and kissed him as courteously as he
might. "Take ye here my spoils, no
more have I won ; ye should have it freely,
though it were greater than this."

"Tis good," said the host, "gramercy
thereof. Yet were I fain to know where
ye won this same favour, and if it were by
your own wit ? "

"Nay," answered Grawain, "that was
not in the bond. Ask me no more: ye
have taken what was yours by right, fee
content with that."

They laughed and jested together, and
sat them down to supper, where they
were served with many dainties; and af-
ter supper they sat by the hearth, and
wine was served out to them; and oft in
their jesting they promised to observe

53 9iit tfatDain ant

on the morrow the same covenant that
they had made before, and whatever
chance might betide to exchange their
spoil, be it much or httle, when the^ met
at ni£^ht. Thus they renewed their bar-
gain before the whole court, and then the
night-drink was served, and each courte-
ously took leave of the other and gat him
to bed.
Of tfie By the time the cock had crowed thrice
iwood the lord of the castle had left his bed;
^^ Mass was sung and meat fitly served.
"^The folk were forth to the wood ere the
day broke, with hound and horn they
rode over the plain, and uncoupled their
dogs among the thorns. Soon they
struck on the scent, and the hunt cheered
on the hounds who were first to seize it,
uiging them with shouts. The others
hastened to the cry, forty at once, and
there rose such a clamour from the pack
that the rocks rang again. The hunts-
men spurred them on with shouting and
blasts of the horn; and the hounds drew
together to a thicket betwixt the water
and a high crag in the cliff beneath the
hillside. There where the rough rock fell
ruggedly they, the huntsmen, fared to
the finaing, and

cast about round the

tUft €itttn Unlzlft 53

hill and the thicket behind them. The
knights wist well what beast was within,
and would drive him forth with the blood-
hounds. And as they beat the bushes,
suddenly over the beaters there rushed
forth a wondrous great and fierce baaur,
long since had he left the herd to roam
by himself. Grunting, he cast many to
the ground, and fled forth at his best
speed, without more mischief. The men
l]£dlooed loudly and cried, " Hay ! Hay ! "
and blew the horns to urge on the hounds,
and rode swiftly after the boar. Many a
time did he turn to bay and tare the
hounds, and they yelp«i, and howled
shrilly. Then the men made ready their
arrows and shot at him, but the points
were turned on his thick hide, and the
barbs would not bite upon him, for the
shafts shivered in pieces, and the head
but leapt again wherever it hit.

But when the boar felt the stroke of
the arrows he waxed mad with rage, and
turned on the hunters and tare many, so
that, affrightened, they fled before him.
But the lord on a swift steed pursued him,
blowing his bugle ; as a gallant knight he
rode through the woodland chasing the
boar till the sun grew low.

54 &it tfatoain ant

So did the hunters this day, while Sir

Gawain lay in his bed lapped in rich gear;

and the lady forgat not to salute him, for

early was she at his side, to cheer his

mood.

Of the She came to the bedside and looked on

kdy and the knight, and Gawain gave her fit greet-

^^'^ ing, and she greeted him again with ready

words, and sat her by his side and

laughed, and with a sweet look she spoke

to him:

" Sir, if ye be Gawain, I think it a won-
der that ye be so stem and cold, and care
not for me courtesies of friendship, but
if one teach ye to know them ye cast the
lesson out oi your mind. Ye have soon
forgotten what I taught ye yesterday, by
all the truest tokens that I knew ! "

" What is that ? " quoth the knight. " I
trow I know not. If it be sooth that ye
say, then is the blame mine own."

"But I taught ye of kissing," quoth
the fair lady. " wherever a fair counte-
nance is shown him, it behoves a courte-
ous knight quickly to claim a kiss."

"Nay, my dear," said Sir Gawain,
"cease that speech; that durst I not do
lest I were denied, for if I were forbidden I
wot I were wrong did I further entreat."

tlft tftnn iinl%1ft 55

"I* faith," quoth the lady merrily, "ye
may not be forbid, ye are strong enough
to constrain by strength an ye will, were
any so discourteous as to give ye denial."

"Yea, by Heaven," said Gawain, "ye
speak well ; but threats profit little in tne
land where I dwell, and so with a gift
that is given not of good will ! I am at
your commandment to kiss when ye like,
to take or to leave as ye list."

Then the lady bent her down and kissed
him courteously.

And as they spake together she said. How the
" I would learn somewhat from ye, an ye lady
would not be wroth, for young ye are and J^?J^
fair, and so courteous and knightly as ye^^.
are known to be, the head of aJl chivalry, wain
and versed in all wisdom of love and war with
— 'tis ever told of true knights how they^®*^®^
adventured their lives for their true love, ^^
and endured hardships for her favours,
and avenged her with valour, and eased
her sorrows, and brought joy to her bow-
er; and ye are the fairest knight of your
time, and your fame and your honour are
everywhere, yet I have sat by ye here
twice, and never a word have I heard of
love! Ye who are so courteous and
skilled in such love ought surely to teach

56 fiit datoain ant

one so young and unskilled some little
craft of true love ! Why are ye so un-
learned who art otherwise so famous?
Or is it that ye deemed me unworthy to
hearken to your teaching? For shame.
Sir Knight ! I come hither alone and sit
at your side to learn of ye some skill;
teach me of your wit, while my lord is
from home."

"In good faith," quoth Gawain, "great
is my joy and my profit that so fair a lady
as ve are should deign to come hither,
ana trouble ye with so poor a man, and
make sport with your knight with kindly
countenance, it pleaseth me much. But
that I, in my turn, should take it upon
me to tell of love and such like matters to
ye who know more by half, or a hundred
fold, of such craft than I do, or ever shall
in all my lifetime, by my troth 'twere
folly ind^d ! I will work your will to the
best of my might as I am bounden, and
evermore will I be your servant, so help
me Christ!"

Then often with guile she (questioned
that knight that she might wm him to
woo her, but he defended himself so fairly
that none might in any wise blame him,
and naught but bliss and harmless jesting

tift €itttn ftnisl^t 57

¥ras there between them. They laughed
and talked together till at last she k^sed
hBn, and craved her leave of him, and
went her way.

Then the knight arose and went forth
to Mass, and afterward dinner was served
and he sat and spake with the ladies all
day. But the lord of the castle rode ever
over the land chasing the wild boar, that
fled through the thickets, slaying the
best of his hounds and breaking their
backs in sunder; till at last he was so
weary he might run no longer, but made
for a hole in a mound by a rock. He got
the mound at his back and faced the
hounds, whetting his white tusks and
foaming at the mouth. The huntsmen
stood aloof, fearing to draw nigh him; so
many of them had been already wounded
that they were loth to be torn with his
tusks, so fierce he was and mad with
rage. At length the lord himself came How the
up, and saw the beast at bay, and the boar wis
men standing aloof. Then quickly he"^*^
sprang to the ground and drew out a
bright blade, and waded through the
stream to the boar.

When the beast was aware of the
knight with weapon in hand, he set up

58 f^it €iutouin ant

his bristles and snorted loudly, and many
feared for their lord lest he should b!e
slain. Then the boar leapt upon the
knight so that beast and man were one
atop of the other in the water; biit the
boar had the worst of it, for the man had
marked, even as he sprang, and set the
point of his brand to the beast's chest
and drove it up to the hilt, so that the
heart was split in twain, and the boar fell
snarling, and was swept down by the
water to where a hundred hounds seized
on him, and the men drew him to shore
for the dogs to slay.

Then was there loud blowing of horns
and baying of hounds, the huntsmen
smote off the boar's head, and hung the
carcase by the four feet to a stout pole,
and so went on their way homewards.
The head they bore before the lord him-
self, who had slain the beast at the ford
by force of his strong hand.

It seemed him o'er long ere he saw Sir
Gawain in the hall, and he called, and the
guest came to take that which fell to his
share. And when he saw Gawain the
lord laughed aloud, and bade them call the
ladies and the household together, and
he showed them the game, and told them

lift 0reen Sinisl^t 59

the tale, how thev hunted the wild boar
through the wooas, and of his length and
breadth and height ; and Sir Gawain com-
mended his deeds and praised him for his
valour, well proven, for so mighty a beast
had he never seen before.

Then they handled the huge head, and
the lord said aloud, "Now, Gawain, this The ke^
game is your own by sure covenant, as ye ^°g ^^^
right well know." covenant

"Tis sooth," quoth the knight, "and
as truly will I give ye all I have gained."
He took the host round the neck, and
kissed him courteously twice. " Now are
we quits," he said, "this eventide, of all
the covenants that we made since I came
hither."

And the lord answered, " By S. Giles,
ye are the best I know; ye will be rich in
a short space if ye drive such bargains ! "

Then they set up the tables on trestles,
and covered them with fair cloths, and lit
waxen tapers on the walls. The knights
sat and were served in the hall, and much
game and glee was there round the
hearth, with many songs, both at supper
and after; song of Christmas, and new
carols, with all the mirth one may think
of. And ever that lovely lady sat by the

6o j^ir tfalDsin ant

knight, and with still stolen looks made
such feint of pleasing him, that Gawain
marvelled much, and was wroth with him-
self, but he could not for his courtesy re-
turn her fair glances, but dealt with her
cimninely, however she might strive to
wrest the thing.

When they had tarried in the hall so
long as it seemed them good, they turned
to the inner chamber and tne wide
hearthplace, and there they dranJc wine,
and the host proffered to renew the cov-
enant for New Year's Eve; but the
knight craved leave to depart on the mor-
row, for it was nigh to the term when he
must fulfil his pledge. But the lord
would withhold him from so doing, and
prayed him to tarry, and said,

" As I am a true knight I swear my
troth that ye shall come to the Green
Chapel to achieve your task on New
Year's mom, long before prime. There-
fore abide ye in your bed, and I will hunt
in this wood, and hold ye to the covenant
to exchange with me against all the spoil
I may bring hither. For twice have I
tried ye, and found ye true, and the mor-
row snail be the third time and the best.
Make we merry now while we may, and

lift tfreen ftnisl^t 6i

think on joy, for misfortune may take a
man whensoever it wills."

Then Grawain g^ranted his request, and
they brought them drink, and they gat
them with lights to bed.

Sir Gawain lay and slept softly, but the CX tfce
lord, who was keen on woodcraft, was^|^
afoot early. After Mass he and his men ^HiLr
ate a morsel, and he asked for his steed ;^^^
all the knights who should ride with him
were alr^y mounted before the hall
gates.

'Twasafair frosty morning, for the sun
rose red in ruddy vapour, and the welkin
was clear of clouds. The hunters scat-
tered them by a forest side, and the rocks
rang agam with the blast of their horns.
Some came on the scent of a fox, and
a hound gave tongue; the huntsmen
shouted, and the pack followed in a
crowd on the trail. The fox ran before
them, and when they saw him they pur-
sued him with noise and much shouting,
and he wound and turned through many
a thick grove, often cowering and heark-
ening in a hedge. At last by a little
ditch he leapt out of a spinny, stole away
slily by a copse path, and so out of the
wood and away from the hounds. But he

62 fiit €intonin ant

went, ere he wist, to a chosen tryst, and
three started forth on him at once, so he
must neais double back, and betake him
to the wood again.

Then was it joyful to hearken to the
hounds; when all the pack had met to-
gether and had sight of their game they
made as loud a din as if all the lofty cliffs
had fallen clattering together. The
huntsmen shouted and threatened, and
followed close upon him so that he might
scarce escape, but Reynard was wily, and
he turned and doubled upon them, and
led the lord and his men over the hiUs,
now on the slopes, now in the vales, while
the knight at home slept through the
cold morning beneath his costfy cur-
tains.
Howfhe But the fair lady of the castle rose be-
kdycanie times, and clad herself in a rich mantle
^**^that reached even to the ground, left her
Uj^^ throat and her fair neck bare, and was
Sir Ga- bordered and lined with costly furs. On
wain her head she wore no golden circlet,
but a network of precious stones, that
gleamed and shone through her tresses
in clusters of twenty together. Thus she
came into the chamber, closed the door
after her, and set open a window, and

tift €itttn mii%1ft 63

called to him gaily, "Sir Knight, how
may ye sleep ? The morning is so fair."

Sir Gawam was deep in slumber, and
in his dream he vexed him much for the
destiny that should befall him on the
morrow, when he should meet the knight
at tiie Green Chapel, and abide his blow;
but when the lady spake he heard her,
and came to himself, and roused from his
dream and answered swiftly. The lady
came laughing, and kissed him courteous-
ly, and he welcomed her fittingly with
a cheerful countenance. He saw her so
glorious and gaily dressed, so faultless of
Features and complexion, that it warmed
his heart to look upon her.

They spake to each other smiling, and
all was bliss and good cheer between
them. They exchanged fair words, and
much happmess was therein, yet was
there a gulf between them, and she might
win no more of her knight, for that gal-
lant prince watched well his words— he
woula neither take her love, nor frankly
refuse it. He cared for his courtesy, lest
he be deemed churlish, and yet more for
his honour lest he be traitor to his host.
"God forbid," quoth he to himself, "that
it should so bef sdl." Thus with courteous

64 9»it tfiatDain ant

words did he set aside all the special
speeches that came from her lips.

Then spake the lady to the knight,
•* Ye deserve blame if ye hold not mat
lady who sits beside ye above all else in
the world, if ve have not already a love
whom ye hola dearer, and like better, and
have sworn such firm fedth to that lady
that ye care not to loose it — and that am
I now fain to believe. And now I pray
ye straitl^ that ve tell me that in truth,
and hide it not.'*^

And the knight answered, "By S.
John" (and he smiled as he spake) "no
such love have I, nor do I think to have
yet awhile."

"That is the worst word I may hear,"
quoth the lady, " but in sooth I have mine
answer; kiss me now courteously, and I
will go hence; I can but mourn as a
maiden that loves much."
The Udy Sighing, she stooped down and kissed
^^uidhim, and then she rose up and spake as
™^2^she stood, " Now, dear, at our parting do
iPl^me this grace: give me some gift, if it
Gftwiinwere but th]^ |^love, that I may bethink
me of my knight, and lessen my mourn-
ing."

"Now, I wis," quoth the knight, "I

tift tf rem Smigl^t 65

would that I had here the most precious
thing that I possess on earth that I might
leave ye as love-token, great or small, for
ye have deserved forsooth more reward
than I might give ye. But it is not to
your honour to have at this time a glove
for reward as gift from Gawain, and I am
here on a strange errand, and have no
man with me, nor mails with goodly
things — that mislikes me much, laidy, at
this time; but each man must fare as he
is taken, if for sorrow and ill."

"Nay, knight highly honoured," quoth She
that lovesome lady, "though I liavej?"^^^
naught of yours, yet shall ye have some-^*,^?
what of mme." With that she reached
him a ring of red gold with a sparkling
stone therein, that shone even as the sun
(wit ye well, it was worth many marks);
but the knight refused it, and spake read-

" I will take no gift, lady, at this time.
I have none to give, and none will I take."

She prayed him to take it, but he re-
fused her prayer, and sware in sooth that
he would not have it.

The lady was sorely vexed, and said. Or fur
"If ye refuse my ring as too costly, thatg^*^
ye will not be so highly beholden to me,
5

66 f»it tf atnain ano

I will give you my girdle as a lesser gift."
With that she loosened a lace that was
festened at her side, knit upon her kirtle
under her mantle. It was wrought of
ereen silk, and gold, only braided by the
fingers, and that she ofiFered to the
knight, and besought him though it were
of little worth that he would take it, and
he said nay, he would touch neither gold
nor gear ere God give him grace to
achieve the adventure for which he had
come hither. " And therefore, I pray ye,
displease ye not, and ask me no longer,
for I may not grant it. I am dearly be-
holden to ye for the favour ye have shown
me, and ever, in heat and cold, will I be
your true servant."
Tlie " Now," said the lady, " ye refuse this
▼iftueofsilk, for it is simple in itself, and so it
fh€ $^i6k seems, indeed ; lo, it is small to look upon
and less in cost, but whoso knew the vir-
tue that is knit therein he would, perad-
venture, value it more highly. For what-
ever knight is girded with this green lace,
while he bears it knotted about him there
is no man under heaven can overcome
him, for he may not be slain for any
magic on earth."
Then Gawain bethought him, and it

cite tf reen S^nisl^c 67

came into his heart that this were a jewel
for the jeopardy that awaited him when
he came to the Green Chapel to seek the
return blow — could he so order it that
he should escape unslain, 'twere a craft
worth trying. Then he bare with her
chiding, and let her say her say, and she
pressed the girdle on hmi and prayed him
to take it, and he granted her prayer, and How Sir
she gave it him with good will, and be-^y^
sought him for her sake never to reveal it ^g^
but to hide it loyally from her lord ; and
the knight agreed that never should any
man know it, save they two alone. He
thanked her often and heartily, and she
kissed him for the third time.

Then she took her leave of him, and
when she was gone Sir Gawain arose, and
clad him in rich attire, and took the gir-
dle, and knotted it round him, and hid it
beneath his robes. Then he took his way
to the chapel, and sought out a priest
privily and prayed him to teach him bet-
ter how his soul might be saved when he
should go hence; and there he shrivai
him, and showed his misdeeds, both great
and small, and besought mercy and craved
absolution ; and the priest assoiled him,
and set him as clean as if Doomsday had

68 f^it tf atnain ani

been on the morrow. And afterwards
Sir Gawain made him merry with the
ladies, with carols, and all kinas of joy, as
never he did but that one day, even to
nightfall; and all the men marvelled at
him, and said that never since he came
thither had he been so merry.
Tlie Meanwhile the lord of tne castle was
Arf abroad chasing the fox; awhile he lost
"^ "*him, and as he rode through a spinny he
heard the hounds near at hand, and Rey-
nard came creeping through a thick grove^
with all the pack at his heels. Then the
lord drew out his shining brand, and cast
it at the beast, and the fox swerved aside
for the sharp edge, and would have doub-
led back, but a hound was on him ere he
might turn, and right before the horse's
feet they all fell on him, and worried him
fiercely, snarling the while.

Then the lord leapt from his saddle,
and caught the fox from the jaws, and
held it aloft over his head, and hallooed
loudly, and many brave hounds bayed as
they beheld it; and the hunters hiea them
thimer, blowing their horns ; all that bare
bugles blew them at once, and all the
others shouted. Twas the merriest
meeting that ever men heard, the clam-

lift tf veen Smigl^c 69

our that was raised at the death of the
fox. They rewarded the hounds, strok-
mg them and rubbing their heads, and
took Reynard and stripped him of his
coat; then blowing their horns, they
turned them homewards, for it was nigh
nightfall.

The lord was gladsome at his return,
and found a bright fire on the hearth, and
the knight beside it, the good Sir Gawain,
who was in joyous mood for the pleasure
he had had with the ladies. He wore a
robe of blue, that reached even to the
ground, and a surcoat richly furred, that
became him well. A hooa like to the
surcoat fell on his shoulders, and all alike
were done about with fur. He met the
host in the midst of the floor, and jesting. How Sb
he greeted him, and said, " Now shall I Gawala
be first to fulfil our covenant which wej^ft^
made together when there was no lack of ^
wine." Then he embraced the knight, and
kissed him thrice, as solemnly as he might.

"Of a sooth," quoth the other, "ye
have good luck in the matter of this cov-
enant, if ye made a good exchange ! "

"Yea, it matters naught of the ex-
change," quoth Gawain, "since what I
owe is swiftly paid."

70 f»it tfatnain ant

"Marry," said the other, "mine is be-
hind, for I have hunted all this day, and
naught have I got but this foul fox-skin,
and that is but poor payment for three
such kisses as ye have here given me."

" Enough," quoth Sir Gawain, " I thank
ye, by the Rood."

Then the lord told them of his hunting,
and how the fox had been slain.

With mirth and minstrelsy, and dain-
ties at their will, they made them as mer-
Sas a folk well might till 'twas time for
em to sever, for at last they must needs
betake them to their beds. Then the
knight took his leave of the lord, and
thanked him fairly.

" For the fair sojourn that I have had
here at this high feast may the High
King give ye honour. I give ye mysdf,
as one of your servants, if ye so like; for
I must needs, as you know, go hence
with the mom, ana ye will give me, as
ye promised, a guide to show me the way
to the Green Chapel, an God will sufiFer
me on New Year's Day to deal the doom
of my weird."

"By my faith," quoth the host, "all
that ever I promised, that shall I keep
with good will." Then he gave him a

cl^e tf rent SimglfC 71

servant to set him in the way, and lead
him by the downs, that he should have no
need to ford the stream, and should fare
by the shortest road through the groves ;
and Gawain thanked the lord for the hon-
our done him. Then he would take leave How Sir
of the ladies, and courteously he kissed Gawain
them, and spake, praying them to receive *«*^«*ve
his thanks, and they made like reply ;^|™*
then with many signs they commended
him to Christ, and he departed courte-
ously from that folk. Each man that he
met he thanked him for his service and
his solace, and the pains he had been at
to do his will ; and each found it as hard
to part from the knight as if he had ever
dwelt with him.

Then they led him with torches to his
chamber, and brought him to his bed to
rest. That he slept soundly I may not
say, for the morrow gave him much to
think on. Let him rest awhile, for he
was near that which he sought, and if ye
will but listen to me I will tell ye how it
fared with him thereafter.

f»it tf atnain ano

ow the New Year drew
nigh, and the night passed,
and the day chased the
darkness, as is God's will;
but wild weather wakened
therewith. The clouds cast the cold to
the earth, with enough of the north to
slay them that lacked clothing. The
snow drave smartly, and the whistling
wind blew from the heights, and made
great drifts in the valleys. The knight,
lying in his bed, listened, for though his
eyes were shut, he might sleep but little,
and hearkened every cock that crew.

He arose ere the day broke, by the
light of a lamp that burned in his cham-
ber, and called to his chamberlain, bid-
ding him bring his armour and saddle his
stera. The other gat him up, and fetched
his garments, and robed Sir Gawain.

ti)t tf teen Smigl^c 73

First he clad him in his clothes to keep Hie
ofiF the cold, and then in his harness, which fofaing of
was well and fairly kept. Both hauberk SJ»
and plates were well burnished, the rings ^^*^
of the rich bymy freed from rust, and all
as fresh as at first, so that the knight was
fain to thank them. Then he did on
each piece, and bade them bring his
steed, while he put the fairest raiment on
himself; his coat with its fair cognizance,
adorned with precious stones upon vel-
vet, with broidered seams, and all furred
within with costly skins. And he left
not the lace, the lady's gift, that Gawain
foreot not, for his own good. When he
had girded on his sword he wrapped the
gift twice about him, swathed around his
waist. The girdle of green silk set gaily
and well upon the roysl red cloth, rich to
behold, but the knight ware it not for
pride of the pendants, polished though
they were with fair gold that 'gleamed
brightly on the ends, but to save himself
from sword and knife, when it behoved
him to abide his hurt without question.
With that the hero went forth, and
thanked that kindly folk full often.

Then was Gringalet ready, that was
great and strong, and had been well

74 &it 6atDaiii ano

cared for and tended in every wise; in

bixr condition was that proud steed, and

fit for a journey. Then Gawain went to

him, and looked on his coat, and said by

his sooth, ''There is a folk in this place

that thinketh on honour; much joy may

they have, and the lord who maintains

them, and may all good betide that lovely

lady all her life long. Since they for

charit)r cherish a guest, and hold honour

HowSbin their hands, may He who holds the

Gawain heaven on high requite them, and also

^J^ye all. And 3 I might live anywhile on

frffm tfcf earth. I would give ye full reward, read-

castk ily, if so I might." Then he set foot in

the stirrup and bestrode his steed, and

his squire gave him his shield, which he

laid on his shoulder. Then he smote

Gringalet with his golden spurs, and the

steed pranced on the stones and would

stand no longer.

By that his man was mounted, who
bare his spear and lance, and Gawain
quoth, " I commend this castle to Christ,
may He give it ever good fortune."
Then the drawbridge was let down, and
the broad gates unbarred and opened on
both sides; the knight crossed himself,
and passed through the gateway, and

tire tf rem i&mslft 75

praised the porter, who knelt before the
prince, and gave him good-day, and com-
mended him to God. Thus the knight
went on his way with the one man who
should guide hmi to that dread place
where he should receive rueful payment.

The two went by hedges where the
boughs were bare, and climbed the cliffs
where the cold clings. Naught fell from
the heavens, but 'twas ill beneath them ;
mist brooded over the moor and hung on
the moimtains; each hill had a cap, a
great cloak, of mist. The streams foamed
and bubbled between their banks, dash-
ing sparkling on the shores where they
shelved downwards. Rugged and dan-
gerous was the way through the woods,
till it was time for me sun-rising. Then
were they on a high hill; the snow lay
white beside them, and the man who rode
with Gawain drew rein by his master.

"Sir," he said, "I have brought veTlic
hither, and now ye are not far from tne squints
place that ye have sought so specially. "^^^"^
But I will tell ye for sooth, since I know
ye well, and ye are such a knight as I
well love, would ye follow my counsel ye
would fare the better. The place whither
ye go is accounted full perilous, for he

^6 9iit tf atnatn ano

Qffhewho liveth in that waste is the worst on
knls^t of earth, for he is strong and fierce, and
*^^^^loveth to deal mighty blows; taller is he
^"^^than any man on earth, and greater of
frame than any four in Arthur's court,
or in any other. And this is his custom
at the Green Chapel ; there may no man
pass by that place, however proud his
arms, but he does him to death by force
of his hand, for he is a discourteous
knight, and shews no mercy. Be he
churl or chaplain who rides by that chapel,
monk or mass priest, or any man else, he
thinks it as pleasant to slay them as to
pass alive himself. Therefore, I tell ye,
as sooth as ye sit in saddle, if ye come
there and that knight know it, ye shall be
slain, though ye had twenty lives; trow
me that truly ! He has dwelt here full
long and seen many a combat; ye may
not defend ye against his blows. There-
fore, good Sir Gawain, let the man be,
and get ye away some other road; for
God's sake seek ye another land, and there
may Christ speed ye ! And I will hie me
home ag^in, and I promise ye further
that I will swear by God and the saints,
or any other oath ye please, that I will
keep counsel faithfully, and never let any

ti)t 6reeii Unii^t 77

wit the tale that ye fled for fear of any
man."

"Gramercy," quoth Gawain, but ill- Sir Ga-
pleased. "Good fortune be his who^^*^^
wishes me good, and that thou wouldst^^^
keep faith with me I will believe; but
didst thou keep it never so truly, an I
passed here and fled for fear as thou say-
est, then were I a coward knight, and
might not be held guiltless. So I will to
the chapel let chance what may, and talk
with that man, even as I may list, whether
for weal or for woe as fate may have it.
Fierce though he may be in fight, yet
God knoweth well how to save His ser-
vants."

"Well," quoth the other, "now that ye
have said so much that ye will take your
own harm on yourself, and ye be pleasei
to lose your life, I will neither let nor
keep ye. Have here your helm and the
spear in your hand, and ride down this
same roaa beside the rock till ve come to
the bottom of the valley, and tnere look a
little to the left hand, and ye shall see in
that vale the chapel, and the grim man
who keeps it. Now fare ye well, noble
Gawain ; for all the gold on earth I would
not go with ye nor bear ye fellowship one

78 f^it tfatnain ano

step further." With that the man
turned his bridle into the wood, smote
the horse with his spurs as hard as he
could, and galloped off, leaving the knight
alone.

Quoth Gawain, "I will neither greet
nor groan, but commend myself to God,
andyield me to His will."

Then the knight spurred Gringalet,
and rode adown the path close in by a
bank beside a grove. So he rode through
the rough thicket, right into the dale, and
there he halted, for it seemed him wild
enough. No sign of a chapel could he
see, but high and burnt banks on either
side and rough rugged crags with great
stones above. An ill-lookmg place he
thought it.

Then he drew in his horse and looked
around to seek the chapel, but he saw
none and thought it strange. Then he
saw as it were a mound on a level space
of land by a bank beside the stream where
it ran swiftly, the water bubbled within
as if boiling. The knight turned his
steed to the mound, and lighted down and
tied the rein to the branch of a linden;
and he turned to the moimd and walked
round it, questioning with himself v/hat it

tift tf rem Smigl^t 79

might be. It had a hole at the end and
at either side, and was overgrown with
clumps of grass, and it was hollow within
as an old cave or the crevice of a crag;
he knew not what it might be.

"Ah," quoth Gawain, "can this be theThefind^
Green Chapel? Here might the devil ^<rf*^
say his mattins at midnight ! Now I wis^"*^"
there is wizardry here. Tis an ugly ora-
tory, all overgrown with grass, and
'twould well beseem that fellow in green
to say his devotions on devil's wise.
Now leel I in five wits, 'tis the foul fiend
himself who hath set me this tryst, to de-
stroy me here ! This is a chapel of mis-
chance: ill-luck betide it, 'tis the cursed-
est kirk that ever I came in ! "

Helmet on head and lance in hand, he
came up to the rough dwelling, when he
heard over the high hill beyond the brook,
as it were in a bank, a wondrous fierce
noise, that rang in the clifif as if it would
cleave asunder. 'Twas as if one ground
a scythe on a grindstone, it whirred and
whetted like water on a mill-wheel and
rushed and rang, terrible to hear.

" By God," (juoth Gawam, " I trow that
gear is prepanng for the knight who will
meet me here. Alas ! naught may help

8o f»it entBnin aiiD

me, yet should my life be forfeit, I fear
not a jot!" With that he called aloud.
"Who waiteth in this place to give me
tryst? Now is Gawain come hither: if
any man will aught of him let him hasten
himer now or never."
Tbe com- " Stay," quoth one on the bank above
^■f^^his head, "and ye shall speedily have
iSSSthat which I promised ye." Yet for a
^^^ while the noise of whettmg went on ere
he appeared, and then he came forth
from a cave in the crag with a fell weap-
on, a Danish axe newly dight, wherewith
to deal the blow. An evU head it had,
four feet large, no less, sharply ground,
and bound to the handle by the lace that
gleamed brightly. And the knight him-
self was all green as before, face and foot,
locks and beard, but now he was afoot.
When he came to the water he would not
wade it, but sprang over with the pole of
his axe, and strode boldly over the brent
that was white with snow.

Sir Gawain went to meet him, but he
made no low bow. The other said,
"Now, fair sir, one may trust thee to
keep tryst. Thou art welcome, Gawain,
to my place. Thou hast timed thy com-
ing as befits a true man. Thou knowest

tift etttn ftniglit 8i

the covenant set between us : at this time
twelve months agone thou didst take that
which fell to thee, and I at this New
Year will readily requite thee. We are
in this valley, verily alone, here are no
knights to sever us, do what we will.
Have ofiF thy helm from thine head, and
have here thy pay; make me no more
talking than I did then when thou didst
strike ofiF my head with one blow."

"Nay," quoth Gawain, "by God that
gave me life, I shall make no moan what-
ever befall me, but make thou ready for
the blow and I shall stand stQl and say
never a word to thee, do as thou wilt."

With that he bent his head and shewed
his neck all bare, and made as if he had
no fear, for he would not be thought a-
dread.

Then the Green Knight made him How Sir
ready, and grasped his grim weapon to Gawain
smite Gawain. With all his force he bore ^^ ^
it aloft with a mighty feint of slaying y^
him : had it fallen as straight as he amied
he who was ever doughty of deed had
been slain by the blow. But Gawain
swerved aside as the axe came gliding
down to slay him as he stood, and shraim
a little with the shoulders, for the sharp
6

82 (^ir entBnin aiiD

iron. The other heaved up the blade and
rebuked the prince with many proud
words:
Of t&e " Thou art not Gawain," he said, " who
^J«is held so valiant, that never feared he
^^**5J;! man by hill or vale, but lAou shrinkest for
pcoftchei^^^ 6^^ ^h^u feelest hurt. Such cowar-
dice did I never hear of Gawain ! Neither
did / flinch from thy blow, or make strife
in King Arthur's hall. Mv head fell to
my feet, and vet I fled not ; but thou didst
wax faint oi heart ere any harm befell.
Wherefore must I be deemed the braver
knight."

Quoth Gawain, " I shrank once, but so
will I no more, though an my head fall on
the stones I cannot replace it. But haste,
Sir Knight, by thy faith, and bring me to
the point, deal me my destinv, and do it
out of hand, for I will stand tnee a stroke
and move no more till thine axe have hit
me — my troth on it."

" Have at thee, then," quoth the other,
and heaved aloft the axe with fierce mien,
as if he were mad. He struck at him
fiercely but wounded him not, withhold-
ing his hand ere it might strike him.

Gawain abode the stroke, and flinched
in no limb, but stood still as a stone or

tift exttn ftnislit 83

the stump of a tree that is fast rooted in
the rocky ground with a hundred roots.

Then spake gaily the man in green,
" So now thou hast thine heart whole it
behoves me to smite. Hold aside thy
hood that Arthur gave thee, and keep thy
neck thus bent lest it cover it again."

Then Grawain said angrily, " Why talk
on thus ? Thou dost threaten too long.
- 1 hope thy heart misgives thee."

"For sooth," quoth the other, "so
fiercely thou speakest I will no longer let
thine errand wait its reward." Then he
braced himself to strike, frowning with
lips and brow, 'twas no marvel that it
pleased but ill him who hoped for no res-
cue. He lifted the axe lightly and let it
fall with the edge of the blade on the bare
neck. Though he struck swiftly it hurt
him no more than on the one side where How t&e
it severed the skin. The sharp blade cut Gtem
into the flesh so that the blood ran over^^^
his shoulder to the ground. And when^^
the knight saw the blood staining the
snow, he sprang forth, swift-foot, more
than a spesir's length, seized his helmet
and set it on his h^id, cast his shield over
his shoulder, drew out his bright sword,
and spake boldly (never since be was bom

84 (^ir €(atDain aiiD

was he half so blithe), " Stop, Sir Knight,
bid me no more blows. I have stood a
stroke here without flinching;, and if thou
give me another, I shall requite thee, and
give ttiet as good again. By the cove-
nant made betwixt us in Arthur's halibut
one blow falls to me here. Halt, there-
fore."

Then the Green Knight drew off from
him and leaned on his axe, setting the
shaft on the ground, and looked on Ga-
wain as he stood all armed and faced him
fearlessly — at heart it pleased him well.
Then he spake merrily in a loud voice,
and said to the knight, " Bold sir, be not
so fierce, no man here hath done thee
wrong, nor will do, save by covenant, as
we made at Arthur's court. I promised
thee a blow and thou hast it — hold thyself
well paid! I release thee of all other
claims. If I had been so minded I might

Eerchance have given thee a rougher
uffet. First I menaced thee with a
Of the feigned one, and hurt thee not for the
^h»e covenant that we made in the first night,
and which thou didst hold truly. All the
gain didst thou give me as a true man
should. The other feint I proffered thee
for the morrow : my fair wife kissed thee,

t^t ettm ^niilft 85

and thou didst give me her kisses — ^for
both those days I gave thee two blows
without scathe — ^true man, true return.
But the third time thou didst fail, and
therefore hadst thou that blow. For 'tis
my weed thou wearest, that same woven
girdle, my own wife wrought it, that do I
wot for sooth. Now know I well thy
kisses, and thy conversation, and the
wooing of my wife, for 'twas mine own
doing. I sent her to try thee, and in
sooth I think thou art the most faultless
knight that ever trode earth. As a pearl
among white peas is of more worth than
they, so is Gawain, i' faith, by other
knights. But thou didst lack a httle. Sir
Knight, and wast wanting in loyalty, yet
that was for no evil work, nor for woomg
neither, but because thou lovedst thy life
— therefore I blame thee the less."

Then the other stood a great while, The
still sorely angered and vexed within him-^"** ^
self; all the blood flew to his face, and he^^^^
shrauik for shame as the Green Knight
spake; and the first words he said were,
" Cursed be ye, cowardice and covetous-
ness, for in ye is the destruction of vir-
tue." Then he loosed the girdle, and
gave it to the knight. " Lo, take there

86 Itoir tf atoain anD

the falsity, may foul befall it ! For fear
of thy blow cowardice bade me make
friends with covetousness and forsake the
customs of largess and loyalty, which be-
fit all knights. Now am I faulty and
&dse and have been af eared : from treach-
ery and untruth come sorrow and care.
I avow to thee, Sir Knight, that I have
ill done; do then thy will. I shall be
more wary hereafter."

Then the other laughed and said gaily,
'' I wot I am whole of the hurt I ha^ and
thou hast made such free confession at
thy misdeeds, and hast so borne the pen-
ance of mine axe edge, that I hold thee
absolved from that sin, and purged as
clean as if thou hadst never sinned since
thou wast bom. And this girdle that is
wrought with gold and |^een, like my
raiment, do I g^ve thee. Sir Gawain, that
thou mayest think upon this chance when
thou goest forth among princes of re-
nown, and keep this for a token of the
adventure of the Green Chapel, as it
chanced between chivalrous knights.
And thou shalt come again with me to
my dwelling and pass the rest of this
feast in gladness." Then the lord laid
hxM of him, and said, ** I wot we shall

t^t etttn ftniglit 87

soon make peace with my wife, who was
thy bitter enemy."

" Nay, forsooth," said Sir Gawain, and
seized his helmet and took it off swiftly,
and thanked the knight: "I have fared
ill, may bliss betide thee, and may He
who rules all things reward thee swiftly.
Commend me to that courteous lady, thy
fair wife, and to the other my honoured
ladies, who have beguiled their knight
with skilful craft. But 'tis no marvel if
one be made a fool and brought to sorrow
by women's wiles, for so was Adam be-
guiled by one, and Solomon by many, and
Samson all too soon, for Delilah dealt him
his doom; and David thereafter was
wedded with Bathsheba, which brought
him much sorrow — if one might love a
woman and believe her not, 'twere great
gain ! And since all they were beguiled
by women, methinks 'tis the less bl^eto
me that I was misled ! But as for thy How Sir
girdle, that will I take with good will, not Gawain
for gain of the gold, nor for samite, nor^^*^
silk, nor the costly pendants, neither forf**^
weaJ nor for worship, but in sign of my
frailty. I shall look upon it when I ride
in renown and remind myself of the fault
and faintness of the flesh ; and so when

88 f»ix eutouin aiiD

pride uplifts me for prowess of arms, the
sight ot this lace shall humble my heart.
But one thing would I pray, if it displease
thee not: since thou art lord of yonder
land wherein I have dwelt, tell me what
thy rightful name may be, and I will ask
no more."
HofwHift "That will I truly," quoth the other,
t « Bemlak de Hautdesert am I called in
[this land. Mor;fi;ain le Fay dwelleth in
mine house, and through Knowledge of
clerkly craft hath she taken many. For
long tmie was she the mistress of Merlin,
who knew well all you kni|^hts of the
court. Morgain the goddess is she called
therefore, and there is none so haughty
but she can bring him low. She sent me
in this guise to yon fair hall to test the
truth of the renown that is spread abroad
of the valour of the Round Table. She
taught me this marvel to betray your wits,
to vex Guinevere and fright her to death
by the man who spake with his head in
his hand at the high table. That is she
who is at home, that ancient lady, she is
even thine aunt, Arthur's half-sister, the
daughter of the Duchess of Tintagel, who
afterward married King Uther. There-
fore I bid thee, knigh^ come to thine

^t tfreen IHniz^t 89

aunty and make merry in thine house ; my
folk love thee, and 1 wish thee as well as
any man on earth, by my faith, for thy
true dealing."

But Sir Gawain said nay, he would in
no wise do so; so they embraced and
kissed, and commended each other to the
Prince of Paradise, and parted right there,
on the cold ground. Gawain on his steed
rode swiftly to the king's hall, and the
Green Knight got him whithersoever he
would.

Sir Gawain who had thus won grace of How Sit
his life, rode through wild ways on Grin- Gawain
galet; oft he lodged in a house, and oft^^
without, and many adventures did he^—JJ^
have and came off victor full often, as at
this time I cannot relate in tale. The
hurt that he had in his neck was healed,
he bare the shining girdle as a baldric
bound by his side, and made fast with a
knot 'neath his left arm, in token that he
was taken in a fault — and thus he came
in safety again to the court.

Then joy awakened in that dwelling
when the King knew that the good Sir
Gawain was come, for he deemed it gain.
King Arthur kissed the knight, and the
queen also, and many valiant knights

/

90 (^ir €(atDain aiiD

sought to embrace him. They asked him

how he had fared, and he told them all

that had chanced to him — ^the adventure

c^ the chapel, the fashion of the knight,

the love of the lady — at last of the lace.

He showed them the wound in the neck

iRdiich he won for his disloyalty at the

hand of the knight, the blood flew to his

face for shame as he told the tale.

Sfcr " Lo, lady," he quoth, and handled the

^^JjlJ^lace, "this is the bond of the blame that

^[^^ I bear in m v neck, this is the harm and

don of bit ^^ loss I nave su£Fered, the cowardice

fatfltand covetousness in which I was caught,

the token of my covenant in which I was

taken. And I must needs wear it so long

as I live, for none may hide his harm, but

undone it may not be, for if it hath clung

to thee once, it may never be severed."

Then the king comforted the knight,

and the court laughed loudly at the tale,

Tlieand all made accord that the lords and

knlj^the ladies who belonged to the Round

^"^^1^*^ Table, each hero among them, should

fionoi,, of wear bound about him a baldric of bright

Gawiln green for the sake of Sir Gawain. And

to this was agreed all the honour of the

Round Table, and he who ware it was

honoured the more thereafter, as it is tes-

tift exttn ftniglit 91

tified in the best book of romance. That
in Arthur's days this adventure befell,
the book of Brutus bears witness. For The cad
since that bold knight came hither first, ^^
and the siege and the assault were ceased**^
at Troy, I wis

Many a venture herebefore

Hath fallen such as this :
May He that bare the crown of thorn

Bring us xmto His bliss.

Amen,

(JMa

1. Paoi 4. — J^£9sin, **\ la Jmre «««.*' Tbb
chaiacterindon of <^waui*t brother fcems to indicate that
there was a French loarce at the root of this ttory. The
aothor diadncdy tells us more than once that the tale, as
he teDs it, was written in a hook, M. Gaston Paris thinks
that the direct source was an Anglo-Norman poem, now lost.

2. Pagx 10. — If^^y *f* tkit hall holds htmulf to hardy.
This, the main incident of the tale, u apparency of vefy
early date. The oldest rersion we possess u that found in
the Irish tale of the FUd Bricrend (Bricriu's feast) [edited
and translated by the Rev. G. Henderson, M.A., Irish
Texts Society, toI ii.], where the hero of the tale b the
Irish champion, Cuchulinn. Two mediaeval romances,
the MuU sans Fran (French) and Diu Kront (German),
again attribute it to Gawain ; while the continoator of
Chi€tien de Troye*s Conte del Graal gives as hero a cer-
tain Carados, whom he represents as Arthur's nephew; and
the prose Perceval has Lancelot. So far as the mediaeval
versions are concerned, the original hero b undoubtedly
Gawain ; and our poem gives the fullest and most com-
plete form of the story we possess. In the Irish version
the ma^dan b a giant^ and the abnormal sixe and stature
of the Green Knight b, in all probability, the survival of
a primitive feature. Hb curious colour b a trait found
nowhere else. In Dim Krhne we are told that the challenger
changes shapes in a terrifying manner, but no detaib are
g^ven.

3. Pagx 19. — For Tule was over-pasi. This passage,
descriptive of the flight of the year, should be especially

94 (lt«to

Botked. Combined with other pMHgei — the detcripcioo
of Oawain*! joamtj, the early morning hunts, the dawning
of New Year*t Day, and the ride to the Green Chapel —
they indicate a knowledge of Nature, and an obtenrant eye
for her oaoodt, unconunon among medieval poeti. It b
anal enough to find graceful and charming descriptions of
spring and early summer — an appreciation of Afay in
cspecialy when the summer courts were held, is part of the
sdock-in-tTMle of medisval romancers b ut a sympathy
with the year b all its changes is far rarer, and certunhr
desenrcs to be specially reckoned to the credit of this

4. Pagi a a. — First a rick carptt was stretektd on tks
Jhir, The description of the arming of Gawain is rather
more detailed in the original, but some of the minor
points are not easy to understand, the identification of
sundry of the pieces of armour being doubtful.

5. Paoi 24. — Th* pintangU painted tkereu^n in gUaws-
intrgold, I do not remember that the pentangle b else-
WBoe attributed to Gawain. He often bears a red shield ;
bat the blazon varies. Indeed, the heraldic derices borne
by Arthur*s knights are distractingly chaotic — their legends
are older than the science of heraldry, and no one has done
for them the good office that the compiler of the Thidrek
Saga has rendered to hb Teutonic heroes.

6. Pagi 26. — Th§ fFildemess of Wirral. Thb b m
Cheshire. Sir F. Madden suggests that the forest which
forms the final stage of Oawain's journey b that of Ingle-
wood, in Cumberland. The geography here b far clearer
than b often the case in such descriptions.

7. Pagi 29. — * Ttoas tJkt fairest eastU tkai ever a
kmgkt owned. Here, again, I have omitted some of the
debiib of the ori|^, the architectural terms lackmg
identification. >l

I. 8. Pagx 43. — M7/i blast of the hugU fared fortk to the
JUd» The account of each day's hunting contaus a
aomber of obsolete terms and detaib of woodcraft, aot

(JtofeB 95

given in fiilL The meaning of lome hat been loit, and
the minute description of skinning and dismembering the
game would be distinctly repulsive to the general reader.
They are valuable for a student of the history of the
English sport, but mterfere with the progress of the story.
The fact that the author devotes so much space to than
seems to mdicate that he lived in the country and was
keenly interested in field sports. (Gottfried von Stras»-
bourg's Tristan contains a nmilar and almost more detailed
description.)

9. Pags 65. — I will give tAee my girdle. This magic
girdle, which confers invulnerability on its owner, is a
noticeable feature of our story. It is found nowhere else
in this connection, yet in other romances we find that
Gawain possesses a girdle with nmilar powers (cf., my
Legend of Sir Gawain, Chap. IX.). Such a talisman
was also owned by CuchuUnn, the Irish hero, who has many
points of contact with Gawain. It seems not improbable
that this was also an old feature of the story. I have
commented, in the Introduction, on the lady's persistent
wooing of Gawain, and need not repeat the remarks here.
The Celdc Lay of the Great Fool (Amadan Mor) presents
some curious p<nnts of contact with our story, which may,
however, well be noted here. In the Lay the hero is
mysteriously deprived of his legs, through the draught from
a cup proffered by a Gruagack or magidan. He comes to
a castle, the lord of whidi goes out hunting, leaving his
wife in the care of the Great Fool, who is to allow no
man to enter. He fidls asleep, and a young knight arrives
and kisses the host*s wife. The Great Fool, awraking,
refuses to allow the intruder to depart ; and, in spite dF
threats and blandishments, inrists on detaining him till the
husband returns. Finally, the stranger reveals himself as
the host in another shape; he is also the Gruagaeky who
deprived the hero of his limbs, and the Great FooFs
brother. He has only intended to test the Amadan Mor*s
fideliQr. A curious point in connection with this story is

9^ Qtoies

dMt it poMeiwi i proie openinf which thowi i marlced
affiaity with the « Perceral ** tn/gneu. That the Perceral
and Oawain itoriet early became connected it ceitam, hot
what it tlie piccite connection between them and tlie
Cdtic Lsy it not clear. In iu preuntfirm the htter it
certainly potterior to tlie Grail romancet, but it it quite
potrible that the matter with which it dealt lepretenti a
tradition older than the Arthurian ttory.

10. Pags 88. — Mtrgmm It Fay^ wka dwtlUth iu my
ktm. The enmity between Morgam le Fay and Guine-
vere, which it here ttated to have been the motif of the
enchantment, it no invention of the author, but it found
in the Mtrlim, probably the earliot of the Arthurian prose
romancet. In a later venion of our ttory, a poem, written
in ballad form, and contained in the « Percy** MS.,
Morgain doet not appear; her place it taken by an old
witch, mother to the lady, but the enchantment it tdll
due to her tpellt. In thit later form the knight bean the
cufioot name of Sr BreJheJJ/g, That given in our
romance, Bemlak Jt HautJturt^ teemt to point to the
original French tource of the ttory. (It it curioui that
Morgain thould here be repretented at extremely old,
while Arthur it itill m hit firit youth. There it evidently
a &crepancy or mitunderttanding of the tource here.)

11. Pags 90. — ji baldric •/ brigkt grun^ for sake of
Sr Gawain, The later vernon connecti thb lace with that
worn by the knighti of the Bath; but thb latter wat
wJtite, ncitgrten. The knighti wore it on the left thoulder
till they hiul done tome gallant deed, or till tome noUe
kdy took it off for them.

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